Never
by rednecksaints
Summary: We all know what happened in "Alone" after Daryl and Beth are cut off during an intimate conversation at the kitchen table, but what would have happened if Daryl didn't open the door? This story is on-going and follows the plot of the show very closely, however, events have been tweaked based on how I think the storyline would have progressed with Beth being alive.
1. Part 1

He was looking at her with a sense of longing - a sense of wonder. It was the oddest thing, trying to decipher his emotions just through the look in his eyes and the nervous flutter of his tongue in cheek. He shrugged and mumbled inaudibly, but she wanted to draw it out of him. He was going to say something important, but he couldn't find the words.

"What changed your mind?" she asked again.

There was that look again. He couldn't get it out, but now she was starting to think that she didn't need him to say it. She saw it. It was obvious. It was her. _She_ had changed his mind, but she still needed to understand why. Was it because he'd seen so much good in her, so much positive energy, that he'd finally caved and opened up? To let in a friend? Someone he could trust and feel comfortable with? Or was it something more? Was he getting the same tingle at the pit of his stomach that she was? Had it migrated from his toes to the tip of his tongue? She felt the feeling writhe within her, and like him, she was speechless. The words were lost and broken, all except for one.

"Oh."

She saw another sentence dangling in front of her. It was a simple question, but before she could reach out and catch it, there was a clatter outside the door.

It was probably the dog - the same one that had paid a visit a few hours before. Daryl had vowed that if it returned, he'd try to bring it in. They'd give it food and shelter and try to give it a home. They were going to stick around here for a while, just like Daryl said. They were going to build something.

She'd always wanted a dog. And so did he.

Daryl shifted in his seat and placed the jar of jelly he'd been holding down on the table. "I'm giving that mut one more chance," he grumbled, rising and grabbing his crossbow. He crept quietly to look outside the window adjacent to the door. She listened for confirmation that it was the dog returning for companionship, but the room fell eerily still. She got up from the table and limped to the next room. It wasn't a quiet or very successful journey, because Daryl stopped her in her tracks about halfway there.

"Where're you goin'?" he asked.

"Was it the dog?"

"No," he said grimly. "Walkers. A lot of them. We need to cut the lights and keep low."

She nodded in agreement and followed through with his instructions, dousing the candles they'd lit at the kitchen table and covering the blinds with sheets. He noticed her trying to shuffle soundlessly into the back room, so he cut to the chace and scooped her up, carrying her the rest of the way down the hall. She'd grown accustomed to this sort of travel. _It's nice_ , she thought, _being in his arms._

The funeral home was set up very similarly to that of a normal house. This was confirmed when Daryl stepped through the door at the end of the hall and they found themselves in a small bedroom. He placed her on the edge of the bed and proceeded to close the door.

"We'll stay back here for a while," he explained. "As long as we stay quiet, I think they'll lose interest."

"Okay," she agreed, not really needing him to provide a reason for what they were doing. She didn't mind being in the tight space with him. He made her feel very small, but in the best way. "What do you wanna do to pass the time?" 

"We should probably get some sleep," he suggested.

She crossed her legs beneath her on the mattress. "I'm not that tired."

"Yeah," he huffed. "Me neither."

They shared that look again, but instead of exchanging words or motives, he slid his back down the wall and dropped to the floor.

"We could keep playing _I Never_ ," she said. "We didn't get very far before."

"Sorry about that." He lowered his head. "I guess I ruined that."

He was referring to the argument that had blown up between them. She still wasn't sure if it was a result of the booze or the built up emotions he'd been attempting to swallow down, but either way, everything had erupted like a volcano. It was a blessing in disguise, because that argument had been the catalyst that brought his walls tumbling down. He'd let her see the deepest and most vulnerable parts of him, exposed and utterly sad. She didn't credit herself with being the one to reach in and pull that side of him into the light, but she liked to think she had a part in it.

"We ain't got any booze," he added, attempting to erase the negative tension he'd just surfaced.

"That's okay," she amended. "We don't have to drink. We can just talk."

He shrugged his shoulders and let out a low grumble from the back of his throat. "Alright."

She shifted on the bed and thought carefully about her first confession. They'd mentioned some of the simple things before, like going on vacation and learning how to shoot a crossbow, but she didn't want to start off with anything like that again. She'd managed to get something out of him when confessing that she'd never been in jail, but that became a sensitive topic. She didn't know why, but she also didn't want to push the boundaries they'd created. They were getting somewhere, and if she asked the right questions, she might get some answers. In this case, however, she had to confess some things because receiving an admission in return.

She decided against starting big and went with something relevant. "I've never… had a pet."

"No dog?" he questioned, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Nope. Maggie tried to bring home a stray once, but my mom was really strict about it. She said it would open a can of worms with my dad. He'd start bringing his work home."

"Merle used to have an iguana," he said, "but he never took care of it. It pissed me off, so I let it go in the woods behind our house. It probably died, but at least it wasn't stuck in that cage."

The muscles in his jaw twitched at the memory. It made him uncomfortable, but she could see that he still considered it to be a fond memory. He missed his brother. Despite all of Merle's bad qualities, Daryl loved him, and probably always would. She tried to imagine having a sibling like that - one that you didn't always agree with, but still chose in the end when it came to an ultimatum. If Maggie had taken up ranks with the Governor and tortured people, would she still be able to love her unconditionally? It was a hard thing to imagine, because no matter what she thought she would do, it didn't matter. Maggie was most likely dead. Everyone they knew was most likely dead. It was just the two of them now, and as much as it hurt, she didn't mind the company.

"That sounds like something you would do," she said, pushing all thoughts of her family to the back of her mind.

He gave her a whisper of a smile and took his turn. "I've never played an instrument."

This immediately cheered her up. "We've got a piano. I could teach you."

A laugh escaped his throat. "Like what? Chopsticks?"

"Maybe," she baited. "I've got nothing against Chopsticks. Or nursery rhymes for that matter."

He bit his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth and pinching the skin. "Maybe tomorrow," he suggested.

A sudden rustling caught their attention. It sounded like branches scraping against the side of the house. Wind whistled through the cracks, and she thought she heard the distinct sound of moaning. Walkers were just on the other side of the wall. A few feet of space separated her from the outside where they roamed. She inched away from the noise, but Daryl caught a sudden glimpse of fear that appeared without her consent. She tried to keep it to herself most of the time, but sometimes it was hard to hide the fact that she was downright scared. Being forced into the wilderness after watching her father brutally murdered played games with her head. She did her best to avoid the nightmares that haunted her dreams every night. True sleep rarely found her, but it'd been easier to relax since finding the house. They weren't stuck in the open with one eye always set on the shadows, waiting for a walker to come out from behind a tree and take them by surprise. Sometimes it wasn't the walkers they waited for. She still wasn't sure what became of everyone at the jail. The people that attacked them could still be out there, and she didn't want to know what would happen if they crossed paths.

"Hey." His tone forced her to look him in the eye. It was soft and alluring. It pulled her in, and it made her relax almost instantly. "Why don't cha come down here with me?"

He picked up his crossbow from where it had been laying beside him and propped it against the door on the opposite side. The space on the floor called for her, so she listened. They rested their shoulders against one another, and she began to feel her heartbeat calm. It was no longer racing, but it continued to beat at a quickened pace. Being this close to him felt different than being in his arms. When he carried her, she was forced to follow his lead. It was his actions that moved her and supported her. But this. She was in control of her position. She could move closer or further away by her own accord, and she found herself subconsciously leaning into him. It was like collapsing into a wall of clouds. He supported her almost weightlessly. It felt like floating.

She felt him stiffen slightly as she leaned into him, but then he relaxed and let his shoulder fall completely into hers.

"Your turn," he whispered.

She'd forgotten what she was supposed to do, but then she remembered the game. She thought long and hard for several seconds before coming to her next confession. It was something that had been eating at the back of her mind for a while, but it didn't feel that important until now.

"I've never been in love," she confessed.

The air in the room seemed to suction out in one fatal swoop. She might have suffocated if it took him too long to respond, but luckily his reply was quick.

"How would you know?" he asked.

She wasn't looking at him, but she saw his face turn toward hers from the corner of her eye. It took all the strength inside of her to not meet his gaze, so she focused on her hands in her lap instead.

"My mom always said I would just know." She giggled innocently. "It sounds cliche, I know, but I think she was right. She said, falling in love was like the worst kind of pain and the best sort of pleasure all mixed up into one emotion." She began fidgeting with the frayed edges of her sweater, still refusing to look at the person next to her. "I think when you love someone, you stop caring about yourself. You do whatever it takes to make that person happy, because one smile from them is worth all the trouble and all the sacrifice it took to get there. Just knowing that you're the one that did it - you're the one that made them smile - that's all that matters."

"Sounds to me like you know exactly what it feels like," he said.

She shook her head. "It's just what I hope."

Something in her finally broke, and she was able to turn her head. When she did, it was his eyes that paralyzed her. She couldn't look away. Deep blue irises stared back at her like a mirror - like a reflection of her own soul - and it was as if her heart forgot how to beat. It fluttered in and out of rhythm to the timing of his eyelids as they blinked slowly and then rapidly all at once. She couldn't catch her breath. She found herself leaning further into his body, capturing the heat of him through layers and layers of clothes that separated their skin. This was so completely different than what she'd ever expected to feel. This was Daryl. She'd looked up to him as a leader at the jail. He was a protector. He was much older, and he'd seen things that she couldn't imagine. But none of those things compared to what she was feeling now. It was uncalled for, and it was strange, but it was wonderful.

His lips parted as he took in the sight of her. He was trying to speak, but yet again, he couldn't find the words.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked.

His response wasn't as quick as the one before, but she was silently thankful that he took the time to really consider it. "Yeah," he let out. "I think so."

She didn't expect to feel disappointed, but it crashed against her like a monsoon. She physically pulled away from him and tried to hide the expression on her face, but he could clearly see that it wasn't the answer she'd been looking for.

"So you had someone before?" she assumed. "Did you lose a wife? Or a girlfriend?"

He shook his head, still looking at her fiercely with those deep blue eyes. They were like a restless ocean at high tide, threatening to spill over and pull her under. "No," he told her. "Not before."

Now she was confused. She'd known Daryl long enough to notice that he'd never interacted much with the other females in the group. He rarely had a one on one conversation with anyone of the opposite sex, besides Carol, and that had never come across as anything other than friendship. Before, she'd shrugged it off as him merely being uninterested. There were other things to worry about and coupling up with someone when they were at the jail was probably at the bottom of his bucket list, but still… who was he referring to now?

"Who?" she pried. It felt like something she shouldn't be curious about, but she was.

She needed to know.

He continued to stare at her. She thought she was going to lose her mind. His lack of vocabulary was becoming more and more inconvenient with every conversation they shared. Silence filtered between them as thick as fog, and she noticed that the house was quiet. For the first time since she'd moved from the bed, she noticed the lack of noise coming from outside. More than likely the group of walkers had spread out and vacated the premises, but it didn't ease her tension. And it most certainly didn't make her forget the matter at hand. It was like trying to pull string from a vat of honey. She could see what he was trying to say buried under the surface, but the amount of effort it took to pull it free was tedious and frustrating. His words were never simple and clean. They were coated with uncertainty and second guesses, but nonetheless, she could usually make out the underlying point. This was different, though. She didn't want to be wrong.

He cleared his throat, and she felt him shake.

"Who was it?" she asked again, then rephrased. "Who is it?"

Finally, one word broke free, and it was the best kind of pleasure and the worst sort of pain all mixed up into one emotion.

"You."


	2. Part 2

Wait.

What?

The tension was palpable. Had she heard him correctly? If so, did he mean it in the way she'd wanted - the way she'd hoped? Because this couldn't be happening. He couldn't have just openly admitted that he loved her. It didn't make sense. But it did.

She continued to fidget with the edge of her sweater. She pulled at the loose string and fumbled with it between her fingers. At some point he'd looked away from her, but she continued to face him. She waited for something else, but he remained quiet. She must have imagined it. What just happened, it must have been in her head.

But then he placed his hand over hers and held it there. She stopped moving against the fabric and let him lace his fingers between hers, just like they'd done in the graveyard when they first found the house. Except this time, he was reaching for her, instead of the other way around.

He was breathing heavily, taking in large ragged breaths while trying to control himself. He was quivering. He was nervous. It made her want to reach out and place her other hand on his back. She wanted to rub small circles between his shoulder blades and whisper that it was okay to feel whatever it was that made him so uncomfortable. But when she moved to do so, he snapped his hand away. He got to his feet and began pacing across the room.

"I didn't mean for it to come out like that," he rambled. "I'm sorry… I just…"

The place where his hand had been felt empty and cold. "Why are you sorry?"

He wasn't facing her, so she was forced to focus all of her attention on his back. She watched it move up and down as he inhaled and sighed. His head moved from left to right, inwardly convincing himself of something that she couldn't see.

"I'm not - I mean... I just wanted to tell you the truth."

"Okay," she accepted. "I'm glad you did."

"You ain't gotta say nothing back. I'm sure you think I'm crazy. I don't even know you."

At this she got to her feet. "Yes you do," she corrected him. "You've seen me at my worst, and that speaks more about who I am than anything else."

With what looked like an extraordinary amount of courage, he turned on his heels to face her and was surprised to see that she was standing just behind him. He took a step back, but she countered it and took that same step forward.

"I think you're one of the strongest people I've ever known," she relented. "You're brave, and you're willing to do the hard stuff, but you care about people. You protected me when you didn't have to. I know I wasn't the person you wanted to get stuck with, but you gave me a chance to prove myself. You taught me that I can be strong too. I can't thank you enough for that, Daryl." 

She watched him swallow the lump in his throat. He made a few inaudible noises, and then he dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Why can't you look at me?" she asked, physically forcing herself into his field of vision.

He caught her eye and mumbled, "I've never done this before."

"Done what? Had a conversation?"

He narrowed his gaze and gave her a disgruntled expression. "You know what I mean. This." He gestured between the two of them. "I don't do this. I don't express my feelings. I can't tell you what you wanna hear cause I don't know how to say it."

His tone of voice indicated that he was growing more and more frustrated by the second. She didn't want him to become so aggravated that he gave up, but this was getting somewhere. If only she could fish the words out of him.

"It's not about what you say," she told him. "It's about what you do. Let your actions speak for you."

"What actions? It's the apocalypse, Beth. I can't take you on a dinner date."

She couldn't help but poorly suppress a laugh. "No. But just a second ago, you held my hand. And you pulled away before I had a chance to react. Why?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't do that. Don't second guess yourself. You know what you want." She thought on her next words carefully. "And I want it too."

He didn't seem to have a problem looking at her after that. His eyes immediately jerked up to meet hers, and he held them there for what felt like ten eternities. They were instinctively leaning closer to one another. He was so close to her that she could feel his breath. Slowly, she placed one of her hands in his. She placed them against her chest and said, "What're you thinking? Right now, this second. What do you want?"

He licked his lips. His eyelids fluttered close.

"You don't have to say it," she assured him. "Just do it."

One millisecond at a time, he inched closer. His forehead fell against hers. His stubbled chin brushed against the softness of her cheek and he breathed her in. He shifted so that his lips hovered just above hers, and then stopped. One breath. Two.

She couldn't take it. Waiting to collide with him was torture. She knew he wanted to kiss her, but he was too scared. Even now, being this close, he was afraid that she'd turn him away.

"Do it," she whispered.

When she moved her mouth, her bottom lip barely touched his. It sent a shock of electricity through her entire body. It rocketed up and down her spine. He must have felt it too, because suddenly their mouths were connected. They were moving in sync, but ever so slowly. He dragged his lips across hers, kissing and taking her in. It was nothing like what she'd expected.

It was so much better.

Her left hand was still knotted together with his, so she used her right one to finger the loose strands of his hair. She brushed it away from his eyes then latched onto the back of his neck and squeezed. A deep groan escaped his throat. Their breathing was labored. She felt like she'd been running a marathon, but it was his actions that knocked the breath out of her. His free hand found her waist. His fingers pressed into her hip. His thumb met an exposed patch of skin just above the waistline of her jeans, and she let out a whimper. He froze, but then a small nod of approval from her allowed him to move again. But it wasn't where she wanted. He let go and let both hands fall to his sides. He was waiting. He didn't know what to do next, even though it was clear what they both wanted in that moment.

She took the initiative and began unbuttoning her sweater. He watched her fingers fumble along the seams. Achingly slow, she slid the article of clothing from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she pulled her top over her head.

"Your turn," she baited.

He removed his jacket and his vest and tossed them onto the bed. Before he did anything else, his hand moved to her face. He touched her cheek and ran his thumb across her lips. Then, he reached up and pulled at the elastic band that kept her ponytail in place. Her hair fell freely around her shoulders, and she heard him let out a stifled gasp. At first, he looked unsure of his actions, but when he really took her in she could see it all over his face. He was blown away. No one had ever looked at her like that before. Not really. She'd had moments with other boys, but the man standing in front of her wasn't a boy. And she wasn't a little girl anymore.

"Beth."

Her name glided off his tongue in a sensual wave. It washed over her and raised goosebumps along her skin. She returned the favor by saying his name, and she watched his eyes close at the sound. She reached to remove his shirt, but as she did so, he winced. She pulled back, unsure of what she'd done, but then he shook his head.

"It's fine," he said. "Go ahead."

She played with the collar, sliding her hand under the fabric. She began unbuttoning, all the way down, never looking away from his face. The little expressions of pleasure he made created a sense of satisfaction within her. Her hands hovered just above his belt, but before she pushed him too far, she moved them back up to his shoulders and slid the shirt down his arms.

They were both filthy. Being stranded in the wild with no shelter and no shower had left them covered in dirt and grime. But it didn't bother her. She moved her hands over him, feeling every inch of skin. Never having had the opportunity to completely explore another body before, she took her time letting each of her fingers linger on his chest and graze across his stomach. She could see his ribs, but she imagined her body looked just as frail. They hadn't had a proper meal in a week, and the cabinet of white trash brunch wasn't gonna last much longer. As she moved her hand across his side a tiny flinch overtook him, and a smiled crept to her lips.

"Are you ticklish?"

His cheeks flushed. "You've had your fun," he protested, then he kissed her again.

They melted into one another, chest to chest. Her heart was beating so incredibly fast that she was certain he'd be able to feel it. He clung to her. Pulled her in. Kissed her jawline and the space just below her ear. Her hands continued to explore, but when they found the skin at his back, she felt something that made her still. There were several places across his shoulder blades that were raised and welted. Scars. Several of them. She held her hand in place, but it was already too late. She'd discovered something he wasn't intending for her to know.

He stopped kissing her, but his mouth remained against her neck. He spoke timidly. "It's nothing. They're just…" She waited, but he couldn't explain. She didn't need him to - he could tell her about the marks in his own time - but he was frozen in place. What they'd been doing was halted by something that haunted him, and she was suddenly terrified that they could never go back.

Daryl separated himself from her completely. He went to sit on the edge of the bed and curled into himself, resting his head in his hands. In that moment, he looked like a kid. He was ashamed but guilt ridden at the same time. As if he'd done something wrong. As if whatever caused the marks on his skin was called for. As if he'd deserved the pain.

She stood in front of him and placed one hand on either side of his face. She lifted his head, but he only made it about halfway before falling into her. He pressed his cheek against her stomach and murmured softly. "I'm not what you want. You could've been stuck with anyone else, and you'd rather have them than me."

She forced his face away from her so she could see it. She stared at him in disbelief. How could he think that? He didn't get it. This wasn't about being stuck out here with just any guy. This was because of him. It was _all_ because of him.

"I've never done this before," she admitted, crouching to his level so she didn't have to look down at him.

"Done what?" he mocked her. "Had a conversation?"

"No," she pressed on. "I've never…" Her unspoken words lingered in the air between them. Unlike her, it was hard for him to pick up on what she was thinking. She actually had to say it, and she felt insecure. "I've never had sex."

His pupils were dilated in the dark of the room, but she thought she saw them shrink at her confession. What would he think of her now? They were on different playing fields, but even though he was older, sometimes she could see that his spirit matched hers. Whether that meant he was immature or she was extremely wise for her age, she didn't know. Inside they were the same. But could that be enough?

"Is that what I'm here for?" he asked, pointedly. Somehow he looked hurt, but she didn't understand why. "I get you your first drink, then I - "

"No," she cut him off. "It's not like that. I'm not crossing things off my bucket list. I'm just telling you the truth."

He nodded his head in understanding then gripped at her hips with his hands. "I didn't expect this," he confessed. "It's been a long time, but it ain't like I can't go without it."

"I know," she let out softly. "But I want to."

"Why?"he countered. "'Cause you think you're gonna die tomorrow? Cause I'm the only one left?"

"Screw you."

She pulled herself away from his grasp and picked her shirt up off the floor. Before she could redress, he reached out and pulled her back. She collapsed against his chest, and after that it was easy to fall into a straddling position in his lap. They were more than intimate now. She was on top of him and he was holding her in place. Even if she did consider moving away from him, he wouldn't let her.

"Dammit girl. I just wanna know why."

She stiffened, so he held her tighter. It was the first display of confidence he'd shown in front of her, and she liked it. She didn't want to make all the moves. If he wanted to be in control of the situation, she was more than willing to let go of the reigns and just ride.

"Because I trust you," she started. "Because you make me feel like someone else. Like someone ten times stronger and more confident than I ever thought I could be. You make me feel beautiful, and I want you to show me everything you're feeling in here." She rested the palm of her hand against the place where his heart beat steadily in his chest. They both relaxed, and she settled against him. "Everything you've been holding onto - I want you to let it go."

He swallowed. She could feel his hands start to tremble against her, so she pressed her mouth lightly against his temple and said, "Please, Daryl. Just let it happen."

"Okay," he obliged, his voice husky and coated with desire. "But I've got one more confession."

"We don't have to play the game anymore."

"I know, but this is important."

She shifted in his lap and waited. Listening.

"I've never done this with someone that mattered," he said.

Noises began to filter in from outside, but this was too important for her to miss. She focused on his next words carefully, and it was all she needed to hear.

"I'll show you how I feel, if that's what you want, but after this there's no going back."

"I don't wanna go back," she whispered.

"Never?"

"Never."


	3. Part 3

His lips crashed against hers.

He'd never felt so lost within a moment before. It was like the stuff he'd seen in movies where everything slows down and feels like the volume has been muffled. His senses were on fire. Every touch from her fingers felt like electricity prickling at his skin. This was unheard of. Stuff like this didn't happen in real life. He wasn't lucky enough to find himself alone with this beautiful girl, yet she was in his lap, and she was kissing him like he was the last drop of water in a dry desert.

Daryl shifted further onto the bed, and she moved with him. He allowed them to fall back so that he was flat against the surface. She hovered over him, her hair creating a curtain around them so no one could see. They created a hiding place with each other, and he would keep her there forever if it meant she would be safe.

Her hands found his belt and began attempting to undo the clasp. He could see her nerves starting to show, so he gently moved her hands away and unhooked it himself. While he did this, he saw her reach behind her back. His eyes were focused on freeing his belt from where it was stuck on the last loop, but he caught the movement of her bra being tossed to the floor. Her chest was covered partly by her hair. She bit her lip in embarrassment. He stopped moving for a second, and then brushed her hair over her shoulder. She froze, not even breathing while he took her in, but he didn't stop there. He cupped his hand lightly over one of her breasts, gently grazing a thumb across the nipple. Her lips parted slightly and she let out a small gasp. There was definitely no going back now. It'd been way too long since he'd been able to enjoy the presence of a woman, and this was different. This was Beth. He was going to soak up every second of this, from now until they died.

"Get up for a second," he grumbled, shifting so she'd move off of him.

She got up and stood beside the bed as he also got to his feet. He took off his pants and his shoes, kicking them aside. She stood still in front of him, waiting for further instructions, and he liked looking at her like that. Innocent and unaware of just how enticing she was. He got on his knees in front of her. She almost looked scared, but he took her hand and kissed her palm so she would relax. She did. He slid her battered and worn jeans down her thighs, meanwhile kissing every exposed patch of skin that greeted him on the way down. He stopped at her ankles so she could step out of them, and she held his shoulders to keep balance. When the task was done, he rose and lifted her off her feet. He placed her gently back on the bed and crawled over her. It was so quiet now, and their breathing was so fucking loud. For a second, he was brought out of the moment, but then she met his eyes, and he was lost again.

He positioned himself between her legs and she wrapped them around his waist. As she did so, she placed a lingering kiss on his collarbone, pulling away slowly enough that her bottom lip stuck to his skin. An uncontrollable groan of pleasure broke out of him, and he dropped his forehead onto the mattress.

"This ain't gonna last very long," he admitted. "You're too much."

She let out a laugh and in a breathy tone she said, "Maybe that's a good thing. I hear it kinda hurts at first."

He pulled himself up to look at her again. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he promised. "If you wanna stop, you tell me." Her eyes were wide and full of expectation. "Promise me," he pleaded.

"I promise," she agreed.

He leaned down to press his lips against hers before she could take it back. He wanted this. Not because it was physical - because damn, this was gonna feel good - but because he wanted to see her face when he slipped inside her. He wanted to watch her spill over the edge with passion and ecstasy, knowing that he was the one that did it. Only him. No one else.

He took the initiative and reached between her thighs, sliding his hand under the fabric of her panties. She was already wet in anticipation of him, so he didn't hesitate to let two fingers slowly inch their way inside of her and explore. And holy shit, she was tight. He definitely needed to drag this out as long as possible, because once he allowed himself inside of her, he'd be done for.

Her breath hitched, and he felt the muscles in her legs tighten.

Suddenly, he was nervous too. What if she'd never been touched like this before? What if he did something wrong? He knew what he was doing, to an extent, but he wanted to give her the best. Nothing but the absolute best.

"Please move," she begged, and he realized he must have frozen in his thoughts.

He curled his fingers inside her, and she gasped.

Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he thought. She seemed to be captivated by every little move he made, and the look on her face was already something beyond what he'd hoped for. If something so small could bring about this much pleasure, he was about to blow her mind.

With his newfound confidence, he continued to flex and bend his fingers to her liking. It was easy enough finding the spot that made her throw her head back and release the word _shit_ from her pretty lips. He waited, pushing her nearly to the edge. He felt her start to clench around him, and just as she was about to explode, he pulled out. There wasn't time to absorb the look of irritation she was giving him, because he was already sliding her panties down her legs and removing them from her completely. He got rid of the rest of what he was still wearing, and it wasn't until that moment that he realized just how hard he was. It was starting to become painful, and seeing her naked below him only sent him further into a rage of desire.

She was shaking, and he wasn't sure why, but he could guess that it was a mixture of nervous energy and coming down from the high she'd just experienced. Although he'd left her hanging, her face was flushed, and her eyelids fluttered closed.

"I'm not done with you yet," he teased.

Something devilish sparked in her eyes as they flew open. She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him flush against her. Their lips melted together. Their tongues tangled into one. Her hands were all over him, until she found his cock. Then they both stopped. He nearly lost it right then and there. Her delicate fingers wrapped around him, he was pulsating in her grasp.

"I'm ready," she whispered against his mouth.

He trembled and let out a heavy breath, then pulled back. Her eyes dropped to where her hand was, but he continued to look at her face. She wanted to do it, but she was second guessing herself.

He cleared his throat. "You've got this."

She took his encouragement and used it to guide her forward. She guided him as well. He was mentally screaming on the inside as she moved him closer to where he needed to go. The tip of his cock met her entrance, and he thought he might die from pleasure. Then she let go, and he slowly pushed inside her. He watched her face, waiting to see if she'd show any signs of pain. Her eyes scrunched together for a second, but she just looked unfortable. He placed his hand against her cheek and kissed her softly.

"Talk to me," he cooed. "You good?"

She nodded her head vigorously up and down, but remained silent.

"Beth," he coaxed her. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes. They were filled with tears.

Immediately, Daryl stopped what he was doing and attempted to move out of her, but she held him in place. "It's okay," she finally said. "I just need a second."

He kept very still, waiting for her to become acclimated to his size. He rested his ear against her chest, and he heard her heart beating wildly. Her fingers tangled in his hair, then after a minute or two she let out a sigh.

"Okay," she said. "You can move now."

He did so with caution, carefully moving in and out and starting a rhythm. He still couldn't tell whether or not it was feeling good for her, but then her jaw dropped open and she let out an, " _Oh god._ "

He breathed a sigh of relief and began to relax. He'd been so caught up in concern for her that he hadn't allowed himself to enjoy what he was doing. But then it consumed him. This was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He moved a bit faster, allowing the friction between them to overtake his senses. He was lost in the feel of her. In her taste and her smell. The sounds she made sent him into overdrive. And she looked like heaven. His mouth found her breast and his hand began massaging the tender area just below her hipbone. She had been clutching at his back, but her arms went slack when his tongue teased her neck and the spot under her ear. His name found its way from her lips and filled the room. He was reaching his breaking point, but he held himself back from going full blast. He had to be careful with her. And he had to remind himself that there was plenty of time to be rough another day. For right now, he was showing her how he felt. He was making love, in every sense of the word.

This was it. She was about to finish. She was saying his name over and over, but it wasn't just a cry of passion. She was trying to get his attention.

"Daryl. _Daryl_."

His head jerked up to look at her, afraid he'd done something wrong, but she only smiled. "Don't knock me up, okay?" she requested between breaths.

She was being funny, but he also knew she was completely seriously. He hadn't paid attention that they didn't have condoms. "I won't," he assured her.

It only took three more thrusts and he was done. Just as he pulled out of her, he plunged his fingers back inside to make sure she could ride out her orgasm completely. He spilled onto her thigh and allowed the sweet release to rock through him. She shuddered and let out one final cry, then she too let go.

Seconds ticked by, and he waited to wake up.

He waited for something to remind him that this had all been a dream. They were still at the jail. Her father was alive, and they weren't the only ones left. But nothing happened. And part of him was thankful that it didn't. Despite the horrible things that had happened to them, it had all led to this moment. Everything led to her.

He used the sheets to clean both of them up and then collapsed next to her. He allowed himself to close his eyes. He felt her index finger trace a line up his bicep and over his shoulder. It found his cheek and ended at his lips.

"You're somethin' special, you know that?" he murmured against her skin.

She didn't say anything, and his eyes were closed, so he couldn't see the expression on her face. He opened his lids and saw that she was frowning.

"Was it okay?" she asked.

"What?" He took her hand in his, knotting their fingers together. "That was… amazing."

She relaxed marginally. "Good. But I knew you were trying to hold back."

"Only because I didn't wanna hurt you."

"You can't break me," she countered. "I'm not fragile."

As intriguing as her claim sounded, he knew better than to run with it.

"I know that," he confessed. "But I was only doing what you told me to do."

"What's that?"

He mumbled and shifted, moving his arm behind his head. "I was showing you how I feel."

She pressed her lips together and smiled. "Thank you."

He squeezed her hand and let go, then he pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest and he let his fingers trace circles around her shoulder. "You still okay gettin' stuck with me?"

"I'm not stuck," she said. "I'm exactly where I wanna be."

He couldn't hold back the smile that bloomed across his face. It blossomed in his chest and made his heart skip a beat. If this was the end of the world, he was surely the luckiest guy in it.


	4. Part 4

She woke up to the sound of birds. It threw her for a second, thinking at first that she was in her own bed. But not her bed at the jail. She thought about her old bed at home on the farm. The birds had been like an alarm clock that put her in a good mood before doing her morning chores. It was a small reminder of how much she missed the little things, but even before she opened her eyes, she knew that those were different birds. She knew that things were very different now, and she needed to face them… no matter how upsetting it might be.

She rolled over on her stomach and found that the bed was empty. She was alone, both under the covers and in the room. Daryl must have woken up before her. Falling asleep felt like minutes ago, but she could tell the sun was high in the sky from where tiny rays of light broke through the blankets that covered the window. It was completely dark when they'd locked themselves away the night before, so she hadn't been able to take in her surroundings until now. There was a small table next to the bed that held a melted down candle, an ashtray, and a lamp. There were books stacked in the corner next to a shelf that was broken, and the walls around her looked faded from age, or possibly smoke.

Beth pulled the sheet to her chin and tried to bring the moments of last night back to her senses. She closed her eyes and pictured it, trying hard not to forget every detail so she'd have it to keep forever. It wasn't a dream. Her skin still tingled from where he'd touched her. Her heart still raced at the memory of the roughness in his voice as he coaxed her through every step. She'd had sex with Daryl. She'd lost her virginity to someone she never expected, but she'd done much more than that. She was falling for him, hard and fast. And if he didn't catch her, she was surely going to crash and burn.

A rustling from outside the bedroom caught her attention, so she scurried from the bed and grabbed her clothes. Dressing quickly, she ventured down the hall and into the kitchen. There were still cans of jam and jars of pigs' feet scattered across the table from their last meal. She made a mental note to clean up a bit once they were settled.

Daryl suddenly appeared from around the corner, and she couldn't help but jump.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Didn't know you were up."

"It's okay," she assured him. "You were gone."

"Yeah. I was gonna hunt for some decent food," he said, then a smile overtook his face, "but I found somethin' better."

She waited for him to explain, but instead he took her by the arm. He led her around the corner and down the stairs. On the fifth step, he spoke up. "When we first came down here, all we paid attention to was the bodies and the burial shit. Well, I found this other room." He gestured to a door at the bottom of the stairs that set off by itself to the left. "You'll never guess what's in there."

She was speechless. She shook her head back and forth, waiting for a theory to come to her, but she couldn't come up with anything. "What?"

He answered by opening the door. Inside were four wooden crates. They weren't labeled, so the only way to know what was inside was to open them, and Daryl had already done that. He lifted the top of the first box he'd pried open. When she peered inside, it was hard to tell what she was looking at. There were dozens of sealed packages all containing what appeared to be some sort of dried meat.

She ventured a guess. "Jerky?"

He nodded. "Yep. And lots of it."

"Woah. That's a lot of meat."

"I know," he agreed. "It makes me wonder…"

"Wonder what?"

"Whoever lived here. They'd been stocking up for a while. Not just since the start of it all, but even before that. I think they were preparing for the apocalypse."

She thought through it, mulling the idea over in her head. "Then where'd they go?" she asked.

"No clue." He closed the lid of the crate. "But let's hope they don't come back anytime soon."

She nodded in agreement, and they shared an uncomfortable moment of silence. He shuffled awkwardly on his feet, shifting weight from one foot to the other. Then, he cleared his throat.

"You alright?" he asked. "Since last night, I mean."

"Yeah," she whispered. "I'm good."

He moved closer then placed his hand lightly on her arm and squeezed. "You don't… regret it?"

"No, Daryl."

She pulled him into a hug, but it took him a minute to embrace her. He allowed his chin to rest gently on top of her head and he breathed her in. She felt so incredibly safe wrapped in his arms. Having her cheek resting against his chest felt like a warm pillow, his heartbeat like music that could guide her into sleep. This moment was how she knew it was real. Everything that had happened between them was real. It wasn't a random act of loneliness or desperation. It was magic - two people set on different paths finally colliding into one another and creating a destiny.

"We could live here," she told him, not wanting to let go just yet.

One of his hands snaked around her back and tangled in her hair. "You think?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Alright," he said. "We will."

She smiled to herself, then pulled back to look him in the eyes. "Well, Mr. Dixon. If that's the case, we have a lot to do."

The corner of his mouth curled up into an evocative grin.

They spent the rest of the morning setting up the house to their liking and cleaning the messes they'd made. In all reality, Beth did most of the work. Daryl used his particular set of skills by making a bigger mess. He was able to catch two rabbits in the woods behind the house and had taken the liberty of skinning them on the kitchen floor. She'd at least placed a bowl under his work so the blood wouldn't leave a stain, but he'd rolled his eyes at her gesture.

"If this is going to be our home," she'd said, "we have to treat it like one."

Their banter carried out through most of the day. Whenever she rearranged things to her liking, he made sure to move at least one item out of place to test her nerves. For the most part, she found it funny. This was his way of flirting, and it amused her. But after a while, he moved past merely teasing and on to something much more welcomed in her eyes.

It was dark now. They'd lit candles in the piano room along the walls that gave off enough light for her to read. She was skimming through a book of poetry she'd found tucked away within the stack in the bedroom. Daryl was sitting across from her on the floor. He was playing with a small knick knack in his hands. Every so often, she felt him glance up at her while she read, but she never met his gaze. The tension between them was terribly thick, and she knew she wasn't alone in thinking about everything that happened the night before.

She tried to concentrate on the words, but when he shifted forward, she found herself following his movements from the corner of her eye. He scooted close enough to lean over the page and sneak a peek at the contents of the book. His shadow fell over the page, and she swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

"Beth," he whispered, plucking the book out of her hand with his thumb and index finger.

"Heeey," she whined playfully. "I was reading that."

He cut her off by placing a fast kiss to her lips, but before he could pull away she reeled him in. This was all still so strange and unusual to her, but somehow it still felt right. They were like two puzzle pieces that had been roughed up around the edges. All it took was a moment like this to smooth them over, and they fit together perfectly. How had they been able to waste so much time before? If she had known the man in front of her would someday become this important, this wonderful, she would've done something. She would have taken advantage of the shelter they had at the prison. She would have started to build a life with him sooner, rather than later.

But this was good. This was enough, because even though it took a dose of trials and suffering, they'd still gotten to this place. If they could stay here, they could build a home. And as long as he was here with her, she never wanted to leave.

His fingers brushed lightly against her cheek. It was so rare that he ever showed such an intimate side of him, it always took her by surprise. He was gentle and careful. His touch was light as a feather, but it weighed her down and planted her to the spot. She couldn't move if she tried. His presence was just that intoxicating. As he continued to kiss her, tasting her tongue and sucking lightly at her lips, she felt her heart give way. She'd already decided there was no going back. If she was going to love him, she would do it all the way. But this was so powerful. What if her feelings for him grew so much that she couldn't take it? Happiness and pleasure so good that it hurt. So right that it was almost wrong.

No.

Nothing about this was wrong.

He stopped kissing her, and they rested their foreheads together.

"If this is a dream," he whispered, "I don't wanna wake up."

She smiled. "Never?"

"Never."

Another week flew by. It was easy to let time slip away when it was just the two of them. Each day felt like a blessing. The normalcy of it all was what kept him going, and he'd never had that to depend on. Even before, his life never felt normal. Being at the prison was the closest thing he'd ever had to a home, but this was so much better. Waking up every day by Beth's side was enough to rush the blood through his veins and get him moving. Her face was all the motivation he needed. He wanted to keep her safe and keep her happy. Nothing would stop him now that they'd found some peace.

But then he found it.

His breath was visible against the cold morning air as he tracked a deer through the trees. He followed it to the road where two sets of train tracks met, and it was there that he saw the sign.

It read "Those Who Arrive Survive", but he didn't trust it for a second. Something about Terminus didn't sit well with him, but he knew that Beth would see it as a sign of hope. He had to tell her. He knew her well enough to know she'd want to go. She'd want to believe that Maggie and Glenn had seen the signs too. She'd want to believe that everyone from the prison was still alive and had made it to a new place of sanctuary. He tried to believe that was a possibility, but even with Beth's positive energy radiating through him, it still seemed like a long shot.

When he got back to the funeral home, Beth was in the kitchen filling bottles with rain water. She'd taken to wearing her hair down more, and he appreciated the gesture. He loved seeing her like that - the sun streaming in through the window and casting light on her pale skin. She glowed like an angel, and it was breathtaking to witness.

She looked to the door when she heard him come in and went to greet him. She handed over a full bottle with a smile and kissed his cheek. "You find anythin'?"

"I tracked a buck for a while, but I lost it."

He took a swig from the bottle, gulping down the cool water that quenched his thirst. He hesitated, debating hastily in his mind whether or not to divulge the new information to her. Very quickly, he decided that it would do no good keeping it from her. Finding Terminus was worth a try, even if it failed. After all, he wanted to see her happy.

"I actually did find something," he began. "Someone made a sign up by the tracks. I think it's another community. If we go there, we might find some of the others."

Her eyes lit up at the news. He watched all the faces of the people she'd lost come back to her in that moment. They flashed across her memory, and a different sort of smile formed on her lips. It wasn't just a smile for the here and now. It was a smile for the future - a future that didn't mean they were alone.

"We have to go," she said. "Maggie could have seen it. And Glenn and Rick."

"It's possible," he said. "But we need to be prepared if it's not what we think."

She straightened and pursed her lips. "We don't need to assume the worst."

"I know," he agreed. "But just don't get all your hopes up, okay?"

She let out a sigh and nodded. "Fine. When do you wanna go?"

"Whenever you want. We can head out first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Her hands were trembling at her sides, so he took them in his. "You're right," he said. "We won't assume the worst. Maybe they are there."

"I hope so."

They set out with a backpack full of food and supplies the next day at the first sign of daylight. The rocks on the tracks created a rough terrain to follow, but they picked up a good amount of speed once they got to a straight shot. They stopped to take a break every few miles, and every time they did, Daryl took the time to make sure Beth was good. Her ankle was still sore from the trap she'd gotten caught in a while back, and the journey wasn't easy, but she was able to hold her own. He offered to give her another serious piggyback ride, but she declined, saying it wasn't practical to carry her the entire way.

When they got to another sign, Daryl deduced that they were close. They could see a building ahead, and it would only take another hour or so to reach it. But before they could march ahead, they heard a rustling in the trees.

Seconds later, Rick stepped out from behind the brush.


	5. Part 5

Daryl's first instinct was to raise his crossbow. He aimed it at the stranger making his way between the leaves and into the open, but when he recognized who it was, Daryl immediately lowered the weapon.

"Rick!" Beth exclaimed, rushing to him.

Rick embraced her, kissing her on the top of her head and inspecting for any signs of damage. It made Daryl uncomfortable to see Beth so close to another man, but he knew what Rick was to her. He'd protected her and served as another father-figure - maybe now more than ever - and it was because of this that Daryl was able to relax his stance. Rick looked to Daryl and gave him a subtle nod. Walking towards the other man, Daryl placed a hand on Rick's shoulder and they exchanged a look of thanks. They had no need for words. They knew what it meant to be reunited with one another again.

Before they could continue to celebrate, two more figures stepped out from the cover of trees. It was Michonne and Carl. They smiled and hugged Beth, but Daryl stayed a few paces away. He was beyond happy to see part of the group alive, but it was like he'd just woken from a coma. Everything he knew before was still there, but it was different. It'd been shaken up and twisted. The people he cared about were battered and bruised. Rick was covered in blood. They'd been through something awful, and Daryl hadn't been there to protect them. He'd been living in a bubble with Beth. He'd forgotten that the world was still bad.

"Did you two get out together?" Michonne asked Daryl, finally letting go of Beth.

"Mmmhmm," he grunted.

"How'd you make it?" she pried. "We haven't come across any of the others. We thought everyone was…"

"So did we," he agreed. "But here ya are."

"Daryl and I moved around a lot," Beth explained. "We found a funeral home and stayed there for a while, but then he saw the signs for Terminus. We knew we had to go and see if anyone else was there."

"We saw them too," Carl put forward. "If we had the same idea, maybe it _is_ possible that more of us are there." He looked to his father. "Don't you think?"

"Yeah," Rick agreed, patting his son on the back in approval. "I think it's a good possibility."

Daryl couldn't help but stare at the gore in Rick's appearance. "What happened?"

Rick made a move to wipe at his mouth, but thought against it, leaving the evidence clear. "We ran into a group. They were bad people."

Michonne backed him up, stepping in to negate the need for Rick's explanation. "We did what we had to do. It's done now."

Beth was looking at Carl, and when Daryl followed her gaze, he saw that the expression on the boy's face was slightly sickened. Whatever happened, it hadn't been pretty. But no need to drum up the memory. It was best for all of them if they kept moving. So, he took the lead.

"Well, what're we doin' standing around?" Daryl initiated. "Let's go get our people back."

They ventured further down the road, walking parallel with the tracks. When they got close enough to see the welcome sign of Terminus, they stopped to gather their bearings and prepare a strategy. It was Rick's suggestion that they enter the sanctuary through the woods, capturing the advantage of seeing what they were up against before being spotted. Daryl followed his lead and cleared a path. They buried their weapons and prepared to climb the fence, but before they could, there was an explosion.

Fire and smoke billowed from one of the buildings ahead of them. No one could tell the cause, but the effect was pretty clear. Walkers were everywhere. Across the lot, dozens of the undead swarmed from the opposite end of the woods. They followed the flames and were met with a spray of gunfire from some of the residents of Terminus. Someone had attacked them, and it was unclear whether or not the act was called for.

Then they saw the others. Maggie and Glenn, Sasha and Bob, and a handful of others that Daryl didn't recognize. They were sprinting toward the fence with weapons drawn.

"Come on!" Rick yelled, fueling Daryl to follow suit.

He made sure his crossbow was loaded and at the ready, then he fell into focus. Before jumping the fence with Rick and Michonne, he gave Beth a long look. He wasn't sure what he wanted his eyes to say, but she got the message.

"Be careful," she said.

Carl pulled them back to the mission before he could lose himself in her. "Beth, help me take out some of the walkers!"

She tightened her expression and composed herself. "I'm on it."

Daryl only watched her for a second, then he couldn't. He forced himself to put one leg in front of the other and move forward. He hopped the fence and landed on solid ground. Rick had already plowed through a wall of walkers in front of them, Michonne close on his heels. She swung her sword as if it were an extension of herself, and it inspired Daryl to take control. He aimed and shot. He pulled out his knife and drove it down into one skull after the other. It took nothing when his concentration was on point. Nothing could stop him. But then he spotted a head of blond hair, and it made him stutter.

It wasn't Beth. It was a stranger - probably a Termite - and anyone that wasn't with him was against him. He kicked a walker square in the chest, and it stumbled back into the girl. It lunged at her almost immediately, but Daryl didn't look back. Nothing else mattered but making sure his people were safe. His girl. He'd take out anything that threatened that sense of security, no matter the cost.

When they made it through the swarm, Rick and Michonne led the escaping members of the group to safety. Daryl lingered back, making sure their path remained clear. Behind him, a small cluster of walkers began to form. There were three in front, and the one that dragged along slightly behind the others looked strangely familiar, but he told himself not to worry. No matter who it was, they were gone now. They weren't there.

He took out the first two, clearing one with a bolt and the other by slamming it face first into the side of a train car. When the remaining walker stood in front of him, he lost all train of thought. It wasn't a walker at all. It was Carol.

She was covered from head to toe in mud and smeared trails of blood. She was wearing a poncho that disguised the weapon she was holding beneath. She was very much alive, and she was helping them.

Daryl froze in place. He couldn't speak, but he needed to say something. He needed to make sure what he saw was real.

"Daryl," she called over the gunfire, "it's me!"

She lowered her gun and took one small step forward. He took an equal step back.

"It's me," she repeated. "I'm not dead! It's really me!"

He shuttered, then shook himself out of it. No time for emotional distraction. "Come on!" he commanded, signaling her to follow him. "We need to go!"

They ran for the fence, but Rick and Michonne were already on the other side with the others. He helped boost Carol up and over, then he made his move.

"Daryl!"

He whipped his head around just in time to see a sunken face with exposed teeth aim to bite at his shoulder. He side-stepped out of the way before the walker could clamp down, and he saw Beth. She wasn't on the outside with the others. She was with him in dangerous territory.

"What the hell are ya doin'?" he yelled.

"I had to help!" She was at his side in an instant and covered in blood. "Carl got cut off from me. I had to help!"

She was defending her actions, but he didn't want to listen. Seeing her in such a state made him furious. He was seeing red, literally. It caked her beautiful face. He reached to wipe away the grime, but noticed Maggie just a few yards away. She watching them expectedly and motioning for them to get going. He grabbed Beth's arm instead and pulled her to the fence.

"Go on," he commanded. "Get up!"

After she'd cleared it, he immediately followed, not daring to look back and find something else to distract him. The group was safe, and that was all that mattered.

As he treked through the grass and beneath the trees, he got closer and closer to familiar voices. He heard Sasha asking Rick how'd they'd found them. He heard Glenn and Maggie introducing Michonne and Carl to the new additions in the group.

Beth was close on Daryl's heels. She placed a fragile hand on his shoulder and said, "Hey."

He turned to face her, and her face was taut. "Are you mad at me or something?"

He shook his head, but didn't answer. Glenn was already greeting him with a pat on the back and an enormous smile. "Man, you guys showed up just in time."

Daryl grumbled a pleasant reply, but he couldn't shake the image of Beth covered in blood. The group moved further into the woods, breaking every so often to regroup and find their way. Carol was leading them with a particular destination in mind, and when they reached it, the others were flooded with joy.

They reached a small shack in the dense woods. Tyreese greeted them at the front door holding baby Judith, and Rick raced to meet him. Carl was close behind, nearly losing his hat in the process. They took Judith into their arms while Sasha was reunited with her brother. It was a beautiful moment, Daryl couldn't deny it, but he couldn't allow himself to completely fall apart and let down his guard. The one person he wanted to hold was occupied with reunions of her own. She tangled in the arms of her sister, and it didn't look like they'd be letting go anytime soon.

Glenn returned to Daryl's side.

"Were you on your way to Terminus?" he asked.

"Yeah," Daryl concurred. "We saw the signs. Thought it was a good shot. What happened?"

"They captured us," Glenn explained. "Took our stuff, held us in a train car. We think they were… eating people."

Daryl wasn't surprised by much these days, but that? Cannibals. It seemed like an impossible state to succumb to, but he knew too well that this world was capable of corrupting even the best of people.

"You got out," Daryl said. "That's all that matters. We're together now. All of us."

Glenn nodded and released a smile. "Yeah. We are."

That night, the group made camp along the road. They built a fire under the cover of trees and slept in shifts. Beth and Maggie were curled up together next to the fire while Daryl kept watch for the others. He had just switched places with Rick who was now resting next to his son. As Daryl listened to the crackle of the flames and the subtle noises of the night, he found himself drifting back to memories of the previous weeks. His time alone with Beth had felt so otherworldly. It felt like a dream, now more than ever, and it was becoming harder and harder to remember the details.

He heard a twig snap under someone's foot, and he swiveled around in haste.

It was her.

"Hey you," she whispered, coming closer.

He turned back to the road. "You should be sleepin'."

"I was. But you looked lonely."

Her voice was so intoxicating. It soothed his tension just listening to her speak.

"I'm alright," he claimed, even though he knew it was a lie.

She plopped down on the ground next to his feet, crossing her legs in front of her. "That's fine. I'll just look at the stars." She looked up, fixating on the glimmer of twinkling lights above them.

He was amazed that she could seemingly sit there, unaware of just how lucky they were to be alive. She looked at the sky like it was nothing, just an everyday thing. But maybe that's why she did it. She knew how lucky they were, and she was taking advantage of the stillness.

He sat down next to her and released the grip on his crossbow. He let it fall between them, creating a barrier.

"Why won't you look at me with the others around?" she asked directly.

He made a point to look her in the eyes, and she grinned.

"Daryl," she whispered. "Are you afraid to be with me now?"

"I ain't afraid," he corrected, a bit too harshly. She shrank away from him, and he immediately reached for her. "I'm sorry. It's just…" He looked over his shoulder to make sure everyone was occupied. "What are they gonna say?"

"Nothin'," she forced.

He shook his head. "It was different with just the two of us. Now, everyone's watchin'. I can't be that person with them. It's not the same."

"How d'you know? You haven't even tried."

"I just know."

"Because I'm too young?" she dared. "Because we were alone together for weeks and you took advantage of me? It's not possible at all that I could have fallen in love with you?"

His senses were jolted awake. Her words were like fire, licking at his instincts. He moved to kiss her, but a new set of footsteps sounded behind them. And to Daryl's regret, it was Maggie.

Her eyes fell on her little sister. "Beth?"


	6. Part 6

She'd never been less pleased to see her sister.

It wasn't that Maggie's presence was unwelcomed, it was just highly inconvenient. However, this was probably the perfect timing, as ridiculous as it was. She needed to prove to Daryl that their relationship wasn't a big deal to the others. She needed to tell Maggie what had happened between them, and in all reality, she really wanted to share. To be able to finally relate to what Maggie and Glenn had together… that was something. She'd wished for that kind of happiness, but Beth never thought she'd find it where it wasn't supposed to be - right in front of her.

Beth shifted away from Daryl as casually as possible, but Daryl's jerky reaction made it so obvious that they couldn't really hide what almost happened. They were sitting too close. His hand had been tangled with hers, and it was painfully clear that they weren't just talking. Beth rolled her eyes in Daryl's direction, but he merely shrank back like a little kid caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"Can we talk?" Maggie asked. She'd managed to smooth over her tone of voice as if what she'd just seen didn't take her by surprise.

"Yeah," Beth obliged.

She got to her feet and followed her sister beyond the campfire. Before they were completely cast in shadows, Daryl hollered a command. "Stay close," he said, without looking at either of the girls directly.

"I'm sorry I dragged you away," Maggie apologized. "We just haven't had a real chance to talk yet."

"I know," Beth agreed. "What happened to you guys on the road? And how'd you end up in Terminus?"

Maggie explained the journey she'd been on over the past two weeks in great detail. She'd originally escaped the prison with Sasha and Bob, eventually reuniting with Glenn and three new survivors he'd met on the road. They all followed the signs to Terminus, just like the others, but didn't realize it was a trap until it was too late. If it hadn't been for Carol, none of them might have made it out alive.

"She really showed up just in time," Maggie admitted. "You guys, too. How'd you find each other?"

"I got out with Daryl. We found Rick, Michonne and Carl only today."

"So it's been just the two of you for a while, huh?"

Beth nodded her head. "Listen," she started, "I need to tell you something, and I know you're probably gonna pull the big sister card, but I need you to just be my friend right now. Okay?"

The other girl squinted her eyes in concern, but then relaxed. "Alright."

Beth took a large gulp and swallowed the lump of hesitation lodged in her throat. She inhaled a deep breath, then released. "I don't know who felt it first," she let out, "but somethin' happened between us. Something good." Maggie's eyes began to expand like two giant saucers, but Beth continued her speech before her sister could interrupt with concern. "I know we weren't out there that long, but with just the two of us, it felt like forever. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. I was upset and lonely, and at first, I thought that whatever I was feelin' was just because of that… but I get it now. I don't know how or why, but I'm falling in love him. And I think he loves me, too."

Maggie's eyes were glimmering with tears. They reflected against the dying light of the fire. She didn't speak, but she pulled her sister close. She held Beth in her arms for several moments before whispering softly, "This is good."

Beth remained squeezed against Maggie's shoulder. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad that you're happy?" Maggie questioned as she pulled back. She looked Beth square in the eyes. "Daryl Dixon is one of the most loyal and honest men I've ever met in my life. If he loves you, he'll love you forever." Beth let out a smile, and Maggie placed a hand against her cheek. "Now," she added, "this doesn't mean I don't reserve my right to give the sorry bastard a hard time."

Beth laughed. "I'm sure he expects that." She allowed her sister to drop an arm around her shoulders and guide them back towards the road, but as they walked, Beth couldn't help but add one small request. "Do you mind not sayin' anything to anyone else?" Maggie looked confused, but nodded in understanding nonetheless. "He's worried how the others will react."

"Why's that?" she asked.

Beth shrugged. "I think he's just… I dunno. He's not used to sharing his feelings. No one else has ever seen that side of him before. Just me."

"I get it," Maggie said. "I'll give you guys your space. And the others will find out on their own. Just do me a favor. Don't let him pull away from you." She retreated into herself as if to show Beth what could happen. "I've seen him try to do it before, when things got hard. But if I know you at all, you're the one person that can keep that from happenin'."

Beth smiled and gave her sister one last hug. She stepped lightly through the leaves and fallen branches until she was back at the road where she'd left Daryl keeping watch. Only he wasn't there. She looked around wildly for any sign that he'd ventured off, but all that surrounded her was darkness and the quiet sounds of the night. Then, something moved. She whipped around to see a walker not ten feet away shuffling across the road and headed straight for her. She pulled out her knife and got ready to strike, but suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth, and the weight of the arm attached to it pulled her back into the shadows. She let out a muffled cry for help, but when a low gravelly voice spoke into her ear, she immediately relaxed.

"It's me. Keep quiet."

Daryl pulled her further into the trees and away from the walker. She let him guide her until they were backed against the trunk of a rather large tree. They both kept extremely still save for the movement of their chests as they breathed in and out against one another. The walker passed by without notice, and eventually Daryl released his grip on Beth's mouth.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to startle ya."

"It's okay."

Beth felt his hand shake as it snaked lightly around her waist. His fingers tightened around her hip, and she couldn't resist letting out a tremulous sigh. His head fell against the back of her shoulder, so she relaxed her stance and rested comfortably against him.

"Daryl," she cooed. "Maggie knows."

His head jerked up. "You tell her?"

"Yeah." His hand dropped from her waist. An inaudible grunt escaped his throat, and she turned around to face him. "She doesn't care. Just like I said." She tilted her head to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't look at her. "Kiss me," she commanded, changing her inflection to sound slightly more seductive. It must have worked, because she felt his entire body twitch. "No one's watchin'."

His eyelids fluttered, then they lifted to reveal pupils that were dilated to the max and filled with desire. She leaned into him, and he replaced his hand where it had rested on her waist. He pressed her into him, gently at first, then pulled her flush against him with one quick move. She gasped, and his mouth teased hers. His tongue played along her bottom lip, tantalizingly slow.

"Can we… go somewhere?" she let out between breaths.

"Right here's just fine," he said. She was shaking, so he steadied her by placing short and sweet kisses along the edge of her chin and down her throat. "You already said no one's watchin'," he murmured. "Can't take it back, Beth."

The sound of her name sent a shiver down her spine. It rattled her core and made her feel like she could collapse at any moment. "I missed this," she admitted, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Her confidence was failing, and truthfully, they'd only been in one intimate situation since that first night they slept together. It was while they were still at the funeral home. Things had gotten heated, and they were so close to having that same overwhelming sense of desperation come over them, just like the first time, but it was interrupted by a small group of walkers outside the house. Daryl had to clear out a cluster of them so they wouldn't press up against the door and cave it in. By the time the coast was clear, the moment had passed, and it had yet to come up again.

However, Beth almost liked how things had progressed between them. It was slow and careful. Nothing about what they had together was forced and rushed. It almost felt like it was happening backwards - they'd slept together and gotten all of the uncertainty out of the way. Now, all that was left was how they felt: lots of contentment, and love, and security, and trust.

And tension. Lots of sexual tension.

She could definitely feel that. She hated that she was more than likely torturing him senseless right about now. He wanted her - that much was clear - but she wanted him too. She wanted him in a way that hadn't felt appropriate before. But now…

Beth allowed herself to be brave again. She enjoyed the tug-of-war they played with who held the power. Sometimes she was the one to initiate it, and very rarely Daryl broke out of his shell and did the same. He was doing it now. He was making sounds in his throat that made her squeeze her thighs together just to get some relief from the ache. When he moved back to her mouth, he was the one controlling their kiss. As much as she enjoyed being pushed past the point of insanity, she wanted to have her fun as well. It was like finding a treasure when she watched him come undone - nothing compared to the look on his face when she teased him. And it wasn't because of what she did, but simply because it was her. Only she could open him up like a box and have the contents all to herself.

She got down on her knees in front of him and started undoing his belt. Before she was able to make any progress, he grabbed her by the arms and yanked her back to her feet.

"Get up," he said.

"Why?"

"You ain't gotta do that." 

She was a bit taken aback. He looked angry. "It's okay. I want to."

She moved to go back to what she was doing, but he stopped her again. He forced her to look at him, face to face, on the same level. " _I_ don't want you to." He bit at his lip, then found the words he wanted to say. "Others girls did that, and you ain't like other girls. I don't want you to be like them. You're special."

"Daryl…"

"Please," he begged. "Don't ever get on your knees in front of me again."

It was the only way he knew how to tell her that she was more. And she understood. She placed one hand on his cheek and nodded her head very distinctly so he would see that she'd heard his plea. She kissed him lightly.

His desperation had now turned into nervous energy. He started fidgeting where he stood. Then, after she removed herself from him, he began to pace.

"This is why I don't want them to see," he confessed. "This is still new to me. With other people involved, there's more pressure, and I don't wanna screw this up."

"Hey," she tried for his attention, but his gaze was fixed at his feet as they moved across the dirt. "It's _our_ relationship. Not theirs. And you're not gonna screw it up, cause I'm not gonna let you."

He stood in one place, then he nodded once, curtly and to himself. It was a gesture of self-reassurance more than anything else.

"Now will you let me touch you?" she asked, allowing a grin to grow on her lips. "Please, Mr. Dixon?"

Daryl stuttered in his step, but moved toward her. "Nah," he denied, then took her by the waist and forced her up against the tree.

It nearly knocked the wind out of her, but it was the most thrilling sensation she'd ever experienced. He ripped at her clothes, pulling them away from her body like petty things to be tossed away and forgotten. In the midst of his haste, she was able to open the front of his shirt and feel his chest flex beneath her fingers. He pulled down her pants and underwear and yanked off her boots. She squealed in protest, but he covered her mouth again with his hand.

"This is gonna be quick and quiet," he informed her. "Think you can handle that, Greene?"

She nodded beneath his grip and tried to hold back her smile, but it was too hard. He undid his own pants and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He shifted slightly so they were hidden by the shadows, then he murmured in her ear, "I love you, Beth."

She melted, and in that same instant, he pushed inside of her. She let out a gasp. The initial sensation of pain only lasted for a second, then it was immediately replaced with pleasure. This would never get old. The feeling of him, all of him… it would never stop taking her breath away.

Beth tried to stay quiet, but she found herself whimpering uncontrollably. His hand was still over her mouth, and she was breathing hot and heavy air against his palm. He shushed her, then he replaced his hand with his mouth, covering hers completely. Their lips brushed clumsily against one another as he thrusted in and out of her. He was supporting all of her weight, so she leaned her back against the trunk of the tree to ease some of his load.

"I don't know… if I can stop… this time," he panted.

She felt his pain. Not only did this feel too good, but they were in a difficult position for him to pull out of her in time like before. Her response came without thought. She instinctively wrapped her legs tighter around him and said, "Don't."

"Beth, we can't…" he started, but she used her fingers to grip at the back of his neck, and the rest of his words were lost.

"Don't stop, Daryl. Don't stop."

He didn't.


	7. Part 7

Something was pulling him under.

It was slow moving but forceful, like a tidal wave. Over and over. Rapid fire. Slow burn.

He'd never been this moved by another human before. It'd only been a few weeks, but every second he'd spent with Beth Greene was a miracle in and of itself.

She was resting her head in the crook of his neck, panting his name as if it were the sole thing giving her life. Whenever he moved inside of her, he felt a spark of electricity pulsate down his spine. It was magic. The real kind.

"Daryl, don't stop."

She was pleading with him, and he wanted to give her everything she wanted. Whatever she desired under the sun, he'd find it and capture it, just to hand it over and let her keep it.

"I won't," he whispered. "I'm not."

He knew the mistake he was making. He knew the risk they'd be taking - the chance. But he didn't care. He couldn't care. There wasn't time to waste anymore. No time to forget to live. He wanted to start building something. He wanted to create a beautiful future, and maybe that started right here. Right now.

They were lost in their own bubble. He loved her so much in that moment, but he knew it wasn't fleeting. It was forever. What they'd created, it would last until the end of time.

He'd been so careful with her the first time, and it still terrified him now that he'd do something wrong. But he couldn't hold in the amount of passion that flowed through him whenever they were together. It let loose like a cannon and destroyed any sense of doubt that clouded his mind. He didn't want to hurt her, but everytime he thought he was being too forceful, she held him tighter. Pushed him further. And he complied.

She wasn't fragile. She was the strongest person he knew.

When they were finished, they stayed wrapped together in the shadows for a long while. He wiped the sweat from her brow and brushed little wisps of blond hair behind her ear. She was stunning, even under all the mess. He wanted to stay there and look at her until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Her big blue eyes. Her soft skin. Nothing was stopping him from memorizing her every curve - hill and valley, plain and plateau.

Until they heard voices coming from the other side of the trees.

Daryl helped Beth gather up her clothes, and they both redressed quickly and quietly. They attempted to dart behind the nearest tree, but they'd already been spotted.

"What the hell?"

Daryl let out a groan and stepped forward.

Glenn was caught between a look of shock and pure horror. "Daryl, what're you… is that…"

Beth must have also shown herself, because Glenn was now staring just past Daryl's shoulder.

"Hey, Glenn," she said, somewhat positively. "What's up?"

"Umm. I was just coming to switch shifts... " He focused on the ground. "I'm gonna go."

"Woah now." Daryl rushed for him, taking him by the shoulder and spinning him around. "What'd you see?"

Glenn now looked terrified. He looked wildly between Beth and the man ready to pounce on him, then sighed. "Look, man. I didn't see anything if you didn't want me to."

Beth walked forward and pried Daryl's fingers from Glenn's shoulder. Very calmly, she looked Glenn in the eyes and said, "It's okay. Maggie knows. I just told her."

Glenn's shoulders fell nearly twelve stories in relief. He wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand and smiled. "I'm sorry, guys. It's cool. This is cool." He gestured between them. "But it is kinda awkward. Since, ya know. You guys just…"

Daryl cut him off, "Alright, you can go."

Beth stifled a giggle. "Sorry, Glenn."

He waved in confidence as he walked back to camp. Daryl felt a hand on his cheek. He looked into the eyes of his girl, and she was smiling.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get back. We both need sleep."

Two days went by that consisted of an endless amount of walking and hunger. They stopped as much as they could afford to find water and safe places to rest, but they weren't making much progress by doing so. It was hard on everyone, not having a goal. Wandering did the body and mind more damage than good, and Daryl could see that the most in Beth.

They weren't close around the others. Despite Glenn and Maggie knowing about their relationship, it was still awkward with the others. Daryl kept to himself and tried not to make it obvious that he desperately wanted to make sure Beth had enough water and had the strength to keep going. When he noticed her start to slow down, he purposefully lowered the pace so the entire group would hang back and breathe. She knew he was doing it all purposefully, but she pretended she didn't notice. Every so often, she would brush by him, grazing his hand or his shoulder, just to remind him that she was there and she was okay. Each small touch pushed him past the fear. And while the sun was still bright, he was able to keep a positive mood. He reminded himself that she had hope, and so would he.

When it was dark, however, things were less easy to push past. It brought on nightmares, including ones of losing her. He pictured her being bitten and ripped from his arms. Her flesh torn from his bones right in front of his eyes. He woke up in a cold sweat and realized that she wasn't next to him. He got up, paced the chosen camp and offered to take the next shift from whoever was nearly falling asleep at the time. The next night, when he was jerked awake by the worst dream yet, she was there. She'd heard him stirring and come to sit next to him. She didn't say anything, just rubbed small circles into the palm of his hand until he drifted back into a dreamless rest. He needed her so badly. So much more than she knew.

On the third morning Daryl was woken up by the echo of a gunshot.

He immediately grabbed for his crossbow, loading a bolt and leaping to his feet in seconds. He looked around wildly, but he couldn't find the source. Daryl waited and watched, weapon at the ready, then Rick came bursting through the trees.

"What the hell?" Daryl let out in a low tone, dropping the crossbow to his side.

"Don't lower it," Rick countered. "Someone's out there."

Daryl did as he was told and followed his leader's orders. Together they took careful steps along a gravel laden path that parrelled the forest's edge. They were a several yards away from the group because Daryl chosen to sleep on the perimeter of their camp the night before, just to ensure their safety. It was hard to leave Beth's side. He hadn't fallen asleep without her next to him in a month, and it felt wrong not to have her leg fall haphazardly over his in the middle of the night. He missed the feeling of her head on his chest. He missed hearing her sing him to sleep.

"Did you hear the gunshot?" Rick asked, pulling Daryl out of his spiraling thoughts.

"Yeah," he said. "You see the guy?"

"No, but I saw the walker he was aiming for."

"He ain't far then," Daryl confirmed.

He zoned into tracker mode in an instant, heading further into the forest. It wasn't hard to find the patterns of hurried footsteps in the grass. There were compressed leaves and trails of broken twigs leading to a clearing that overlooked the city. They were closer to Atlanta than he thought. They'd been traveling to get away from Terminus for miles, but he'd somehow lost track of just how far they'd gone. This particular spot wasn't far from where the original group had made camp with Dale's RV. For a moment, he was brought back to memories of Merle, but he wiped them away quickly and replaced them with his current mission.

Rick was scoping the area, his Colt Python raised and ready. Daryl listened for sounds of movement, then he heard it. Footsteps racing behind them. He whirled around and saw the split second image of a boy disappearing within the foliage.

Daryl darted back into the trees and followed his prey. He was on top of the boy in seconds, pinning him to the ground and relieving him of his weapons. The kid had one gun and one knife. Daryl empty the clip and found one solitary round theft to fire. He was young. Dark skin and wild eyes mapping a look of fear Daryl hadn't seen in awhile. This boy wasn't their enemy. But he was running from someone that was.

Rick came up behind him, frisking the kid from top to bottom.

"I got everything," Daryl insisted, but Rick continued with his search nonetheless.

"Are you alone?" Rick pried.

The boy nodded once. "Yeah. Just me."

"Why were you runnin'?" Daryl asked, stepping up as Rick's second in command.

"The dead ones," he said. "I can't shake em. They've been following me since I left the city."

"The city's overrun," Rick assured. "What were you doing there?"

The boy dropped his head and made to gesture that Daryl return his weapon, but Daryl stuffed it forcefully under the loop of his belt. "Nah, keep talkin'," he grumbled.

"Look, I can't stop. They might catch up to me." He picked up his backpack that had fallen off in the scuffle. "If you're not gonna hurt me, can you let me go?"

Rick leaned forward in a curious stance, ready to pounce if the situation called for it. "Who might catch you?"

"The people at the hospital. The people at Grady."

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. A group was held up at a hospital in Atlanta. That could be good news or bad news for them, and Daryl didn't want to take the chance of finding out. But he knew Rick would want to investigate. A hospital meant medicine, and probably plenty of food. Their group was suffering from the lack of resources, and it would be stupid to pass up on such a rare opportunity. But was it safe? If this kid was trying to escape them, how dangerous were they?

"What's your name?" Daryl asked thoughtfully.

The boy relaxed and extended his hand. "Noah."


	8. Part 8

"I'm gonna need to see your bag."

Noah's hand was still extended, ready to accept a shake from Daryl, but Rick's hand had extended as well, and it wasn't in greeting. He flexed his fingers, aiming for Noah to hand over the backpack for inspection. The boy complied, and his handshake went unanswered.

Daryl stood and waited patiently while Rick rifled through the contents of the pack. He pulled out two bottles of water, a sealed bag of granola bars and pretzels, a box cutter, and a first aid kit. Noah's gun was tucked safely in Daryl belt, but he held on tightly to the boy's knife. Daryl kept his crossbow at his side, finger on the trigger.

"Please don't take that," Noah begged. "It's all I've got."

Rick tossed the backpack at Noah's chest and his caught it awkwardly. "We don't wanna take your food," Rick said. "I just wanted to check for more weapons."

"I'm not a bad guy."

"We don't know that."

Daryl shuffled his feet and began to pace. "You said you were at a hospital?"

Noah glanced in his direction, but focused back on Rick almost immediately. He didn't trust them, and he was right not to. After everything they'd done… maybe they were the bad guys.

"Yeah. Grady Memorial."

"What happened? It get overrun?"

Noah shook his head. "It's not the dead ones. It's the people. Everything's falling to shit. It's messed up there."

"Who's in charge?" Rick asked.

"A woman. Her name is Dawn."

"How many of you were there?"

"I dunno. Maybe twenty total. They take in patients. Some don't make it."

Daryl was trying to process the quick flux of information being thrust at him, but it was a lot. He could see the wheels in Rick's head clicking and turning. He was mentally making a plan, and Daryl had a feeling it would be dangerous.

"We don't need to go," Daryl insisted, trying to cut off Rick's idea before it had time to hatch. "It's not worth it. We can find supplies somewhere else."

Rick gave Daryl a questionable look, pleading with his eyes to make the other man see reason, but Daryl already did. He saw it better than Rick. They weren't the bad guys yet, but if they did this…

They'd just escaped a group that tried to eat them.

If they stormed that hospital just to take their stuff, they were no better than the cannibals.

"We'll discuss it with the others," Rick put forth. "Let's go."

He motioned for Noah to walk ahead, and the three of them set back to camp.

Beth enjoyed the company of her new friend.

She and Noah hit it off right from the start, but she had to admit she was weary at first sight. It'd been a long time since anyone new was adopted into the family. She hadn't seen Daryl come back with a recruit since the jail, but it was obviously still part of him - bringing people in - and it always would be.

Noah was a kind spirit with plenty of fight, just like her. After he told the rest of the group about his escape from Grady, Beth knew he was going to fit right in. He had persevered and conquered, and even though he had his weaknesses, she saw that he was capable of proving himself to be an asset. She knew he was good. She could see it.

Daryl had a slightly harder time warming up to the boy. Beth knew he trusted Noah, or else he'd never have brought him back in the first place, but something pricked Daryl's nerves and she couldn't figure out what. Whenever they were around one another, Beth could feel the tension between them. She didn't want to believe that Daryl was capable of being selfish, but she had the slightest feeling he didn't appreciate having to share his time with her with someone new. Much less, an outsider.

Other than that, Daryl had been the one to defend Noah on his first day. Rick had suggested that they take a group back to Grady to scope out what food and supplies they might have to spare. Everyone knew it wouldn't be peaceful, and Daryl had spoken up saying there was no reason to send Noah back to that hospital after he'd just escaped. It'd be putting the group at risk, and Beth had to agree that it seemed like too heavy of a bargain against their favor. Noah appreciated the vote of confidence, and that was all it took.

A few days passed, and the group found shelter at a barn in the woods. A storm hit the night before, rocking the foundation and threatening to cave in the roof, but the building held. It was a miracle, and Beth acknowledged it as such.

She and Daryl still weren't sleeping next to each other. Even with Maggie and Glenn knowing full well about their relationship, Daryl insisted that they not tell anyone else. Beth was keeping her promise, but every night sleeping without him was harder than the one before.

The morning after the storm, Daryl and Glenn left bright and early for a run. They were gone for most of the day, so Beth spent her time helping Maggie collect firewood and assisting the others with barricading the windows of the barn. Noah lent a steady hand as well, and she found it extremely easy to talk to him. He was around her age, so it was nice having someone she could relate to. Even though she was close to twenty, the others still couldn't help subconsciously lumping her with Carl as one of the kids. With someone else on her level though, they were forced to categorize her in between. She and Noah weren't kids, but she didn't feel like an adult either.

Except when she was with Daryl.

Everything felt different with Daryl.

The sun was setting when he returned with Glenn.

Daryl was carrying several wild animals he'd caught to cook for dinner, and Glenn had a bag full of juice and canned corn.

Beth and Noah had been wandering through the woods beforehand, and at the sight of Daryl she'd charged to greet him at full speed. Noah jogged behind her, trying to keep up on his bad leg, and when they both skidded to a halt in front of Daryl and Glenn, they were both greeted with perplexed expressions.

"What were you doing?" Daryl asked, grabbing for his crossbow. He immediately sensed danger and tried to register if she was in trouble, but she just laughed.

"We were scoping the woods," she heaved out between breaths. "I raced him back."

Noah was clutching a stitch in his side. "Yeah, and I just got beat by a girl."

"I got a head start," she teased.

"Only because you didn't tell me we were racing."

She laughed again and thought she saw Daryl flinch.

"I'm gonna see if they need help with the fire," Noah said, then went with Glenn to join the group.

"You shouldn't be wasting your energy like that," Daryl grumbled. "You'll exhaust yourself for nothin'."

"I was just having fun," she told him in defense.

His eyebrows pulled together and he swallowed hard. Then, in a bitter tone, he said, "It's the end of the world, Beth. We ain't got time for _fun_ anymore."

He started to walk away, but she called him back. "Since when?" He stopped and stared at her, and she lowered her voice so the others wouldn't eavesdrop. "When we were at that house, I seem to recall us having fun. A lot of it actually."

"Don't throw that shit in my face."

"What shit?"

He was genuinely mad, but she couldn't tell if it was actually because of her or something else.

"Daryl what's wrong with you? Ever since we got connected back with the group you've been-" She cut herself short. She knew what he was doing. And she knew why. "Look," she continued. "I get it. It was just the two of us for a long time, and now it's awkward being around everyone again…"

"It ain't that," he forced.

"Then what is it?"

She watched his eyes shift to where the others gathered around the beginnings of a fire pit. They landed on one person then quickly darted back to look at her.

"Noah?" she guessed. He dropped his gaze. "Are you jealous?"

Daryl made a noise that sounded like a mixture between a choke and a cough. He shifted the string of rabbit and squrrill carcases on his shoulder and stood just a little bit straighter.

"I ain't gotta listen to this," he said, trying to walk away with his pride.

She stopped him, grabbing at his elbow and pleading, "Wait."

He caved completely, just like he always did when she used that voice. Maggie had been watching them, but she refocused her attention on Glenn when Beth looked her way. Carl and Michonne had spotted them as well. She couldn't do what she wanted to do with everyone right in front of them, so Beth retreated in her steps and let go of him.

"If it were up to me," she spoke softly, "I'd kiss you right now and prove that you have nothin' to worry about. But I can't, because everyone's watching. And that was your choice."

She ended her statement with a tone of finality, and he very clearly caught it.

Daryl stared at her longingly, then breathed one quick breath in and out.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

He walked away from her, clutching his loot so tightly she could see the white in his knuckles. Something felt barren inside her. She'd just tried to give him an out, and he'd shut her down. Disappointment crept through her bones.

Things were different now.

That night, Beth sat alone in one of the isolated corners of the barn. She'd started a small flame at her feet with her lighter, and she quietly watched the flame dance as an occasional gust of wind broke through the cracks in the wall. Maggie had come to sit with her for a while, offering the last bit of meat that was left on her plate, but Beth had respectfully declined both the food and the company.

After a few minutes, Noah came and sat beside her. He didn't ask.

"Are you and your boyfriend fighting?" he asked sincerely.

The question caught her off guard, but not as much as the word. "What?"

"Daryl," he elaborated. "I saw you guys earlier." He played haphazardly with the brush stuck to the bottom of his pants. "I don't think he likes us hanging around each other very much."

Beth shook her head. "He's got a lot on his mind. We're low on food, and we need to find a more permanent place to stay. He's just stressed."

"And I'm not helping," Noah suggested.

She started to say something, but she couldn't disagree without lying. And she couldn't agree without proving his point. So, she smiled and said, "He means well."

Noah nodded in understanding. He crumbled a handful of leaves and dropped them into the flame. They cracked and disintegrated in seconds. "Did you know each other before?" he asked.

"No," she said. "But almost since the beginning."

"That's nice."

She could tell he really believe it, so she felt comfortable enough to confide in him just a little bit further. "No else really knows," she admitted. "Except my sister and Glenn."

His eyes lifted from the fire and met hers. They were wide with intrigue.

"This group has been together for a long time, but the stuff between me and Daryl is still pretty new. We were all separated, and it was just the two of us for a while. Since then, I can't look at him the same as before. There's too much there." She choked back the feeling of tears. "I get why it's better this way, but it doesn't make it any less hard."

Noah was still looking at her thoughtfully. "Do you wanna tell them?"

She shrugged and pressed her lips together in a tight line. "I don't wanna have to." A tear fell from the corner of her eye, and she watched it drop onto her jeans and leave a mark. "We should all be able to just… be."

"Yeah, you're right," Noah agreed. "But hey, I'm not gonna pretend to understand what you're feeling. I don't know. And I don't know any of those people. But I can see just by the way he looks at you how important you are to him. If he wants to keep this to himself, there's gotta be a legitimate reason for it. I don't believe he wants to hurt you."

"No," she concurred. "I know he doesn't." She wiped the excess tears forming in her eyes before they could fall. "Daryl's just… _complicated_."

Noah scoffed. "That I can see." He focused on the figure sitting quietly by the door, then cleared his throat. "And I can see him giving me that terrifying smolder right about now, so I think that's my cue to leave you alone." Noah got to his feet and patted her lightly on the back. "Good luck."

Beth couldn't help but chuckle. "Thanks."

Across the room, Daryl lit a cigarette between his lips. The light from the embers glowed dully in the darkness, and she watched it get brighter as he breathed in. He kept his eyes on her, blowing out a puff of smoke, then he jerked his head subtly. He was motioning for her to get up and go outside, and she only knew that because he was already walking out the door.

Beth doused the fire at her feet and grabbed her knife. As she passed by Maggie and Glenn, her sister gave a small nod. Maybe keeping things under wraps wouldn't be as hard as she'd thought. The others were caught up in conversation, and they didn't pay any attention to the small creek of the barn door as Beth sealed it shut behind her.

Outside, Daryl leaned casually against the wall of the building. He barely allowed five seconds to pass before coming to her. As he got close, he blew out the remainder of the smoke in his mouth then planted a firm kiss to her lips. He held her face in his hands and completely claimed her. She could taste the nicotine on his breath, and it made her shiver.

He pulled away from her mouth but kept his hands in place, resting his thumbs on her cheeks. She could feel his calluses on her skin, and it reminded her of all the other places his rough hands had touched.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I was stupid. That kid's lucky to have a friend like you in a world like this." He let go and raised the cigarette back to his lips and smirked. "You're the sweetest person I know. A little too sweet sometimes, but that's how I like it."

Fire lit her insides. Daryl was getting really good at having conversations. It was becoming less and less hard for him to string together the words he wanted to say to her, and she loved how easy it was becoming for him to just speak.

"I kinda like it when you're jealous," she teased, chewing at her bottom lip.

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't push it, girl." He snuffed out the end of his cigarette and tossed it to the ground. Before heading back inside, he gently tapped her on the ass. "How 'bout I accidently fall asleep next to you tonight?"

An enormous smile took over her face, and she couldn't hold it in. "Alright."

He nodded and smiled back. "Alright."


	9. Part 9

Abraham, one of the new members Glenn met while on the road, wanted desperately to get to D.C. It was brought up in conversation amongst the group daily, and it was shot down by Rick equally as many times. There was no logical sense in traveling 600 miles through walker country without a solid end game, but evidently Abraham and his small army had just that.

Eugene had the answers, and he was willing to bet his extremely fashionable mullet that he could find the cure. That's right. _The cure_. Rick was still unconvinced, but it was Noah yet again that allowed him to consider it. Noah's family lived in Richmond, Virginia. It had been his original destination after escaping the hospital, and he still had it in his sights to be reunited with his mom and twin brothers. Beth felt for the boy, and she admired that glimmer of hope he was able to cling to. The others took some convincing, but once Rick set his mind on something it was carved in stone. He agreed that Washington would be the new plan, so they set out on their long journey the next day.

It took weeks.

They drove as much as possible, finding abandoned cars and siphoning what little gas they could obtain, but the majority of the trek was on foot. Each day was harder than the next. They'd completely run out of food and were dangerously low on water. Every mile or so they were forced to stop and catch their breath, but even that didn't seem to help. They were near exhaustion, and Beth feared she'd pass out before she made it another mile.

It hadn't rained.

Beth shook the contents at the bottom of her bottle. She wanted to down that little bit of water she had left, but she knew she needed to save it. _Only sip_ , Maggie had told her.

"Perk up," Daryl chirped from behind her.

He nudged her gently in the back with his bow and urged her forward. She'd slowed down without realizing it. Lost in another daydream about falling asleep in a bed of macaroni and cheese.

"I'm fine," she lied, purposely straightening to show she was fully alert. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "You weren't out there very long."

He briefly quickened his pace so he was walking beside her. "Creek was dry. Ain't gonna be anything worth catching without water nearby."

Just hearing him say the word _water_ made her throat close. She swallowed a dry lump.

"Hey." He placed a hand on the small of her back. "You good?"

She nodded slowly. "Great," she forced. She wanted to change the subject. "Remember when you said you'd never been out of Georgia?"

It took him a second to register what she was hinting at, but when he got it, his hand dropped from her back.

"You've seen at least three different states now. And we've been in Virginia for a while," she said. "Should be getting close to Richmond soon."

Daryl looked around, taking in his surroundings as if for the first time. He was looking at Virginia leaves. Virginia soil and grass. She could see him analyzing it all. He'd somehow forgotten to take it all in when they passed through the Carolinas, but now he watched the trees shift and sway in the wind, and she thought she saw him smile.

"Is it as exciting as you thought it'd be?" she asked. "Being in a different state?"

"Dunno," he grumbled. "Haven't seen enough to make a decision."

The change of subject had worked. She'd forgotten about what little water she had left. That is, until Glenn made a point of bringing it up again.

"Come on, Maggie," he urged. "You have to drink something."

Glenn and Maggie were walking a few steps ahead of them. She hadn't realized it until then, but she hadn't seen her sister take a sip all day.

Maggie shoved the bottle that Glenn was offering away from her mouth. "We need to save it, Glenn. I promise, I'm fine."

Glenn's head lowered slightly, but he gave in. He placed the bottle back in his pack and picked up the pace, leaving Maggie to fall into line next to Beth. Daryl drifted to the outside of their group, leaving the girls to themselves.

"He's just worried about you," Beth said.

Maggie frowned. "It's not me he's worried about."

"I don't get it."

She grabbed Beth lightly at the elbow and they halted suddenly. Good thing they were at the back of the group or else anyone would have slammed right into them.

"What's up with you?" Beth hissed, yanking her arm away.

Maggie froze. Her eyes glossed over with something Beth hadn't seen in her sister for a long while. It was genuine fear.

"I think I'm pregnant," she confessed.

Beth stopped breathing. This was a… well it was either a blessing or a damnation. And at the moment, there was no way to tell.

"Are you sure?"

Maggie nodded. "Pretty sure."

There wasn't anything else to say. She didn't wanna congratulate her if it wasn't something to celebrate. But why wouldn't it be? If Maggie and Glenn were going to have a baby, now it was more important than ever that they make it to D.C.

But there was something else that made her second guess how she should be feeling. It bit at the edge of her mind…. About the last time she and Daryl had been together...

"Don't say anythin'," Maggie pleaded. "Glenn's already freakin' out. If we tell anyone else, it'll become everyone's first concern. And we can't afford that right now. We have other jobs to do."

Beth cringed at the phrase. It reminded her of their father.

She immediately put the thought away.

"Looks like we've both got secrets to keep," she said. "I'll hold my tongue if you hold yours."

Maggie smiled and extended her hand. "Deal."

Noah's town was gone.

It didn't take Rick and Glenn peering over the wall to know it for sure. The others knew just by how quiet it was. No noise meant no life. But when they walked through the gates, they didn't expect it to be so brutal.

There were bodies everywhere. They lay scattered across the asphalt like broken toy soldiers that lost the war. What made it worse was that the bodies weren't whole. They'd been chopped into pieces and left to rot.

"What happened here?" Carol whispered under her breath.

Daryl was frozen beside her, crossbow ready but slackened at his shoulder. "This wasn't walkers."

"No, it wasn't," Rick agreed. He casually stepped over an arm.

Beth cringed. "We can't stay here," she said, looking to Daryl for confirmation. "Whoever did this might come back."

"She's right," he agreed. "It's too dangerous."

"We should at least look for supplies," Glenn suggested.

Rick nodded once and led the way. He radioed to the others in the cars about the plan, and then the six of them, including Noah, waded through the sea of destruction. They kept fairly calm despite their surroundings, but then Noah spotted his house. He darted down the opposite road, and Daryl immediately went after him.

"Noah!" Beth called, but there was no stopping them. She understood. He wanted to know the fate of his family. He had to see it for himself.

"Let him go," Rick said. "Daryl'll watch him. We should split up and gather what we can. Make it fast."

Rick and Carol backtracked to the house they'd just passed while Beth went with Glenn. She walked quietly next to him, enjoying the company. They didn't spend much time together except in the presence of Maggie, so it was nice, but she wanted to take advantage of it being just the two of them.

"Maggie told me," she said, starting conversation.

"Told you what?" he asked cluelessly.

"About the baby."

He stopped and gave her a look of astonishment. "You two can't keep anything from each other can you?"

Beth laughed. "I guess not. It's funny, because we never used to be this close. We fought a lot growing up. But now, I guess all this… shit like this'll bring people together no matter what."

He started walking again. "Is that what happened with you and Daryl?"

"Yeah. Kind of."

"I have to admit, I definitely didn't expect it." He shook his head and rephrased. "I just mean, you're both so different."

"We are, but I think that's why it works."

He nodded solemnly and continued to walk. They picked a small white house with blue shutters for their first scavenge. As they entered the home, Beth was hit with an uneasy sensation that sent a chill all the way down her spine. It wasn't like anything she hadn't seen a thousand times. Dust caked the furniture. The smell of death wafted through the air, growing stronger with every corner they turned. But this was different. This felt wrong. The people hadn't just died. There was no swarm of walkers or threat of starvation. Someone, or something, had come in and slaughtered them.

The first body was sitting casually in an armchair. It appeared content despite it's lack of limbs. It's head was missing too. Just the torso sat upright in a sitting position, and as she took it in, Beth had to fight down a surge of vomit in her throat.

It was horrific.

"I really don't feel right about this place," she said to Glenn.

He was grabbing up items left and right, but Beth couldn't tell whether or not he thought they were useful. They both wanted to get out of that place as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, an ear piercing scream echoed from outside.

The two of them exchanged a quick glance, then immediately charged for the exit.

She couldn't tell where it was coming from, but she followed her instincts as best she could. They ran in the opposite direction from where they'd come. Eery silence led them nowhere, but then they heard another scream.

Glenn banked sharply to the left and followed the cry for help. They found Noah on the porch of the next house. He'd barricaded himself against the railing with a chair as a walker tried to fight its way to him. He was stuck, but Beth didn't hesitate. She came up behind the walker and shoved her knife through the base of its skull. It was down in seconds.

"What happened?" she asked, helping him to his feet. "Where's Daryl?"

Noah breathed heavily. "It's Carol," she said. "We have to go."

Beth's heart stopped. She couldn't see. Everything had blurred to red and it felt like the ground was tilting beneath her feet. She barely heard Glenn ask where they needed to go, and then she was being dragged along. No. They weren't dragging her. Her feet were moving on their own, but she couldn't control them. She was running. That's all she could do was run.

Every thump of her boots slamming against the asphalt marched with the pounding of her heart in her chest. Everything slowed down. She was breathless and desperate.

 _Please don't let anyone be bitten_ , she thought.

 _Please don't let anyone die._

She wouldn't cry. Not until she knew for sure. But the thought of it even being a possibility threatened to blur her vision with tears. This wasn't happening.

Did Carol and Rick get separated?

And where was Daryl?

Noah directed them to his house. They ran inside, and Beth only had a second to register the body of a woman face down on the floor in the living room. They raced up the stairs, weaved in and out of several doors, and raced down the hall until they came to a small bedroom towards the back of the house. Carol was in the corner of the room. She was clutching at her arm completely coated in red. Blood spilled onto the floor and pooled around where she sat. Two walkers lay dead beside her.

Rick was there, and Carol was dozing past the point of consciousness. He instructed Glenn and Noah to stretched her arm out as Rick pulled out his machete and began to chop violently just above the place where she was bitten. Beth didn't know what to do. She just stood there, watching as they took off Carol's arm.

 _Swish_. Chop. _Twack._

Where the hell was Daryl?

She heard someone approaching at a fast past from down the hall, and her question was answered. Daryl came barreling into the room, eyes blazing and gears turning in his brain a million miles an hour. Beth could see him trying to process the situation, but before he caught her eye his mind snapped into action.

Carol's arm was gone. Rick and Glenn wrapped her wound with sheets from the bed, and as they attempted to carry her out, Daryl stepped in. He and Noah grabbed her legs as Rick and Glenn supported the rest of her weight. Beth now knew what she had to do.

It was her job to get them out.

She kicked past the door that hung limply off its hinges and forces them through a sea of furniture and debris. They'd been making a ton of noise, so it didn't surprise her that once they got outside several walkers were waiting for them at the door, trying to get in. She whipped out her gun and shot two clear through the head. The other she pushed back with all her strength, and it went tumbling over the rails of the porch. They rushed through the yard, the others trailing behind as quickly as possible with Carol in their arms.

" _Beth_!" Rick yelled for her. "Take the walkie! Warn the others!"

She fell back a few steps and yanked Rick's walkie talkie from his belt. She flipped the switch as they continued to run and began radioing the rest of the group.

" _Anybody_ ," she demanded attention over the airwaves. "Carol's bitten. We need help!"

Crackling erupted over the speaker, and then Michonne's voice sounded. " _We'll meet you at the gate_."

They made it to the van, and the others were ready and waiting, but Beth could see the look of disappointment written all over their faces. This had been a solid piece of hope for everyone, and yet again, the rug was ripped out right from under them.

Carol was hoisted into the back seat, but she was no longer responding. Daryl crouched over her, putting pressure on the end of her arm. He was covered with her blood, and the harder he tried to stop the bleeding, the more anguish took over his face. He was losing hope.

Beth stood very still. This wasn't any different than what they'd done for her father.

This could work. They just had to try.

They just had to keep trying.

Daryl was attempting CPR. He forced his weight into Carol's chest, over and over, but nothing happened. Rick stepped away from the van and lowered his head. Glenn was very still.

The others kept their distance, knowing that it was too soon to start asking questions. Beth could almost feel Carol's spirit leave her body. It sent a wave of stillness through the air and created a chilling calm. Everyone remained quiet.

Except for Daryl.

Beth could hear the subtle sound of cries start to erupt from his throat. She heard the word _no_. He kept repeating it, as if the command would stop what was happening - what had _already_ happened.

As if the act of him simply telling her not to meant she wouldn't die.

But she had. Carol was gone.

Daryl got out of the van. He stood there, hands limp at his sides, and stared. He stared at the body of his closest friend, and he cried. Beth reached for him, but he pulled away. He was in a place swallowed by grief. A place where no one could reach him. Not even her.

He fell to his knees on the ground, and Beth found herself falling with him. She reached for him again, but this time he didn't remove himself from her. She rested her forehead on the back of his shoulder, just to let him know that she was there, and she embraced him. She could hear the others start to cry too, but nothing could mask the sound of Daryl's grief.

He'd just lost the first person he'd ever loved.

The first person that saw him for who he truly was.

After this, Beth didn't know if Daryl would ever be the same again.


	10. Part 10

Daryl didn't speak for three weeks.

Beth had seen her fair share of grief, but never like this. Daryl was broken. Something inside of him had snapped in two, and it made him unhinged. He flinched at every sudden move, pulling away from even the slightest touch Beth offered to give him. He kept to himself, and whenever a member of the group thought to approached him, he immediately retreated. He fell away almost completely, keeping his distance and only nodded as a response to anyone's questions. Though occasionally deterred, Beth kept close. Even when he ignored her, she stayed put. The words Maggie had said to her echoed in the back of her mind with every passing day.

 _Don't let him pull away from you._

 _I've seen him try to do it before, when things got hard._

 _But if I know you at all, you're the one person that can keep that from happenin'._

She wouldn't let that happen.

Things changed the day it finally rained. They'd been walking for days, endlessly pushing forward to a destination none of them were certain of anymore. After leaving Richmond, the group thought it best to keep moving forward. They'd made it all this way, so it was only right to cover that last bit of distance to D.C. This made Abraham extremely happy. Thinking about it, he and his two companions were the only ones with smiles on their faces.

Everyone else was lost.

Beth could see it in their eyes. There was a vacant look in all of them that made it hard to conceal the loss of hope in all of their hearts. Noah's town was supposed to be a miracle. It was supposed to be the ray of light at the end of a very long and very dark tunnel. But it wasn't. It had been just like everything else. A disappointment. A crushing reality check.

But when it rained, it was like the water washed away all of the sadness that had been cloaking the group for weeks. Beth felt clean in a way that meant more than just the dirt stripping from her skin. She felt renewed. They were going to make it to Washington, and no matter how long it took, Daryl was going to be okay again.

Their eyes met across the pavement.

Droplets of rain fell into her field of vision and streamed ribbons across their faces, but under all of that Beth saw a flicker of something in Daryl that had been temporarily extinguished. She went to him, taking one furtive step at a time, and she took his hand. He allowed the touch, and then he allowed something more.

He laced his fingers between hers and squeezed.

"It's okay to let yourself feel it," she told him.

He nodded once then spoke only to her. "I know."

She couldn't have been sure, but she thought she saw tears mixing with the raindrops on his cheeks. She gave him a reassuring nod.

"I can't lose anyone else," he said. "Not you."

Beth swallowed. "As long as we stick together, no matter what happens, we'll have each other."

He took her face in his hands, holding her steady with his palms to merely stand there and admire her. She felt unease, knowing that the others could clearly see them, but as if reading her thoughts Daryl shook his head and said, "I don't care."

He touched his lips to hers, and he tasted like the sky.

Everything fell away - the guilt, the fear, the hesitation - the rain washed it all onto the road and it dissipated under their feet.

Beth separated his mouth from his only long enough to tell him what she'd wanted to say out loud for months. "I love you," she said. "And I don't think I'm ever gonna stop."

"Never?" he tested.

"Never."

The next day they found an RV. It was like the world was finally offering them a place at the table. Glenn managed to get it running in a few short hours, and then they were back on the road. They were only thirty miles outside of the city, and Beth could see the tops of several well-known buildings in the distance. She peered out the window next to Maggie and took it all in with a giant smile on her face.

"Where're we going once we get into the city?" Sasha started, asking Eugene who was sitting across from her at table.

"I'm not exactly sure of that just yet," he said. "I've got two locations in mind that I think could be a good place to start. But we'll just have to scope out the situation once we get within range."

"You don't have a plan?" Glenn asked, stepping into the conversation.

"I do," Eugene countered. "It just involves a great many variables that need sortin' out beforehand."

Sasha stared in great interest. Her eyes narrowed, then she shifted the topic to something more important. "So what is the cure exactly?"

Eugene instively curled into himself. "That's classified."

She lifted an eyebrow. "What if something happens to you and we have nothing to go on?" she suggested. "If you die, what then?"

"That's not gonna happen," Abraham chimed in. "Miss Espinosa and I are here to ensure Eugene's safety at any cost. Don't you worry about him dyin'."

Sasha exchanged a look of concern with Maggie, but Beth couldn't hold back her smile. At least they were doing _something_. They had a purpose - one that was much bigger than walking aimlessly out on the road.

She got up from her seat next to Maggie and headed towards the back of the RV. As she walked, she caught stares from the others. They were subtle, but she felt their eyes as she moved. They'd all seen her and Daryl kiss outside in the rain, and she'd expected a cacophony of questions and exclamations from them, but no one had even acknowledged it. Not a single person. It was almost disappointing. She'd built it up to be such a huge deal in her head that their lack of interest made her feel… let down. But she told herself it was for the best. Everyone's heads were in a different game. They had bigger things to focus on, and her secret relationship with Daryl was probably the last concern on everyone's minds.

Daryl, however, was still on edge.

It was his initiation that caused the display of affection, and part of him was starting to wish he could take it back. Beth knew he felt stupid for being so open and careless, but she didn't want him to think it was wrong. Finally, after tiptoeing around the group for weeks, they could just be with each other. Simple. Just like before.

He was hunched in a chair next to the window in the back bedroom of the camper. Beth sat down on the bed across from him and stuffed her hands beneath her thighs. She sank deep into the mattress, and she was suddenly extremely overwhelmed with how wonderful it would be to lie back on that bed and sleep for a while. With Daryl next to her.

"Why're you back here by yourself?" she asked, playfully nudging his leg with the tip of her boot.

He faced her carefully, then blinked several times, as if pulling himself from a daze. "Nothin'," he said. "Just thinkin'."

"About what?"

"About the cure." He turned to the window again. "Do they really think it's gonna fix everything that's happened? We can't go back now. We're too far gone."

"We get to come back," she countered. "It's not too late for anyone."

He shrugged. "Some of the stuff I've done… I can't just fit that into a normal life again. It don't make sense."

Beth freed her hands and laced them in her lap. She stared at her fingers, noting all of the cuts and scraps that were beginning to create scars. "It doesn't matter," she said. "There are still good people, Daryl."

He gave her a timid smile. "There's you."

Her stomach fluttered. It was ridiculous how much he could make her feel like a little girl, getting riled up over compliments and small touches, and other times make her feel the _complete_ opposite. He brought out so many beautiful things in her in so many beautiful ways, but most of all, he made her feel important. She wasn't just a member of the group, she was part of it. She was useful, because she was strong.

He gestured for her to come sit with him by the window. She got up to join him but the chair was too small, so she eased herself onto his lap. Just as she'd made herself comfortable, Rick gave a small knock.

Beth jumped slightly, but stayed put. Daryl's hand latched onto her arm where he'd been caressing it lightly with his fingers. His immediate reaction to protect her never faltered. Not even for a second.

"Beth, can I speak to Daryl privately for a moment?" Rick asked, stepping into the bedroom.

She nodded and removed herself from Daryl with as little affection as possible, but that proved to be very difficult. Daryl grunted and situated himself in a stiffer position, raising his chest and crossing his arms. He nodded to Beth once, and Rick gave her the same acknowledgment as she passed. When she stepped into the narrow hallway, the felt the door immediately close behind her. It wasn't like they'd done anything wrong, but something felt like Daryl was about to be in trouble.

Daryl cleared his throat and tried to pull his shit together, but it proved unhelpful now that Rick had seen everything so clearly. What had he done? His emotions took the better of him and had clearly made the wrong decision. This was what he'd been waiting for. Rick would finally see what scum he really was. He'd think Beth was being taken advantage of and there was nothing Daryl could do to defend himself. What proof did he have that he loved this girl, other than what he felt inside? He couldn't rip his heart out and very well show it to the world. If it were possible, he'd lay it out on the table for everyone to see, but it wasn't. His feelings were stuck inside, both figuratively and literally.

"I'm not gonna say what you think," Rick started. He stood in that pose that meant he was serious, carefully leaning forward with every word. He shook his head, obviously still trying to process what he was having to address. "Just tell me it's more than what _I_ think."

Daryl began fidgeting with his hands, tapping the window ledge with his fingers. The sound fell short and lacked any echo in such close quarters. He continued to do it.

Rick tried again to reel in Daryl's full attention. "I'm just here as a friend. As your brother."

Daryl's focus promptly snapped into place.

Maybe Rick would believe him after all.

"I love her," Daryl said plainly. "That's it."

Rick began to smile. It took over half his face, and Daryl thought it looked out of place only because it hadn't made an appearance in so long.

"Daryl Dixon," he muttered, shaking his head in near disbelief. "You've done it. You've finally done it."

Daryl scoffed. "Done what?"

"For one thing you've proven to everyone you're not a hermit." A laugh escaped, and then he said, "What gets me is that you've allowed someone that close." Rick sobered his expression. "I get it. I've always gotten it, and I've never questioned it. From the beginning, I saw that I could trust you, because you trusted so much in others. Not in a way that meant they were reliable, but you could see them for what they were. You just know things, and I think that's why everyone looks to you. You're cautious. You set me right when I'm not in my place, and I appreciate that."

Daryl chewed roughly on his bottom lip. Hearing all of this was a lot to take in, but he was grateful.

"I can see how much she means to you," Rick added after dropping his gaze to the floor. "You deserve it. Don't let that go."

He took a step back and slid open the door, leaving Daryl with a new sense of hope that he hadn't felt before. It was different than what he felt with Beth. It was bigger, and it spread further. It wasn't just the two of them anymore. They really did have a family, and that was all Daryl had ever wanted.

Beth busied herself with a puzzle Michonne and Carl had found in a compartment under the cushions. She arranged the edges in a square and tried not to think about what Rick and Daryl could possibly be discussing in the back room. As Carl sorted the remaining pieces by color, something jolted the vehicle, causing a few stray bits to fall to the floor.

"What was that?" Carl let out hastily under his breath.

Before Beth could respond, she was falling sideways.

The RV had turned on its side and was skidding a path of destruction across the pavement. Beth felt the sharp sting of glass on her arm and cheek, then something hard fell against her head. The last thing she saw before closing her eyes was her sister. Maggie tried to reach for her hand, but she was already slipping away.

Everything around her faded to black, and then the world went still.


	11. Part 11

He smelled smoke.

It cluttered his nostrils and made him choke. Daryl coughed and shifted under the weight of the mattress that slid from its place on the bed. He shoved it away with a hard thrust and tried to get to his feet, but everything around him felt off.

He looked up through the window of the RV and saw sky, but it wasn't right. Everything was topsy turvy. Mumbles are groans started emerging from the other side of the door, so he kicked past the chair that blocked his path and tried to open it. Rick had fallen into a corner behind the bed. There was blood dripping from a deep cut on his arm, and it smeared across everything he touched as he pulled himself up and went to help Daryl with the door. It wouldn't budge.

"Hey!" Daryl called. "Anybody out there?"

He heard a cough, then glass crunching under the weight of someone's shoe.

"Is everyone alright?" Rick shouted, commanding an answer from his people.

" _I think so!"_

It was Glenn. At least one person was alive on the other side. But what about Beth? Before he could ask, Daryl felt Glenn start to pull at the other side of the door.

"It's jammed where the roof is bent," Glenn said. "We'll have to knock it down."

"Stand back!"

Daryl waited several seconds to allow Glenn the chance to get out of the way. Then, he landed a solid kick to the surface right between the hinges, sending the divide crashing to the floor.

The other side looked even worse than the bedroom. Most of the furnishing that were locked in place merely sat at a new angle, but the loose clutter in the cabinets had all fallen to the floor. Something from the front of the vehicle was smoking.

"We need to get everyone out," Rick instructed. "Glenn, get outside and take a head count."

Glenn nodded and helped the others to their feet. Daryl saw Rosita and Abraham guiding Eugene up and out the door that was now an open ceiling. Michonne and Sasha hastily kicked out one of the windows, clearing an exit for themselves and the others. Carl and Bob followed them out. Tyreese had been in the driver's seat, so he escaped through the door after Abraham. Glenn was already outside, but Maggie was leaning over someone, and despite his fear Daryl deduced that the only person left was Beth.

"Bethy?" Maggie cooed. "Open your eyes, Beth. You're okay."

Daryl shuffled past Rick who was now climbing out the broken window. He positioned one arm under Beth's knees and the other under her back, lifting her from her position on the floor. There was a large box of ammunition spilling out next to her. Daryl immediately felt his stomach lurch, thinking it must have fallen and hit Beth on the head.

"Come on," he urged Maggie.

She cleared their path and helped guide Beth in Daryl's arms, preventing her from hitting the ledge. Once they were outside and far enough away from the wreckage, Daryl gently placed Beth on solid ground. He held her head and wiped the blood away from her cheek. She had a small gash behind her ear, and her arms were cut from the glass.

"Hey girl, I need you to wake up," he said, taking her chin between his fingers. "Open your eyes Beth. I ain't doin' this today." He shook her lightly, then leaned down to press his ear against her chest. He felt her heart still pumping, and the beat sounded loudly against his eardrum. "Come on," he begged.

He looked to Maggie and saw that her bottom lip was trembling. Glenn handed him a spare rag, and Daryl used it to dab around the edges of Beth's porcelain face. He wiped away the dirt and the blood, making her clean again.

"That box of ammo fell right on top of her," Maggie explained. "I saw it, but I couldn't stop it. We were already sideways."

"What the hell happened?" Rick demanded. He took his position of authority and began pacing a line in front of the group. "Did we hit something?"

Tyreese stepped forward. "It was walkers," he said. "I tried to swerve and miss, but the brakes locked up. Then the engine started making crazy noises. I hit the edge of the ditch, and that's what flipped us."

Rick looked to Glenn.

"I checked everything before we left," Glenn defended himself. "I didn't see anything wrong."

"There's nothing we can do about it now," Michonne said. "We should set up camp nearby."

Abraham interjected. "What we should be doin' is continuing on foot. This doesn't change the mission. We've got at least three hours of daylight left, and I say we keep movin'."

"We don't move anywhere until Beth wakes up," Maggie forced.

"I agree with the ladies," Bob spoke confidently. "There's no reason why we can't settle here for the night."

"We've already wasted enough time settling," Abraham argued. "I've lost too many valuable days spent off track, and I don't intend to lose anymore. It's my job to get us back on track-"

"Then go!" Glenn fired back. "We're not part of your mission. We agreed to help you, but if you feel like we're dragging you down, then cut us loose. Beth is hurt, and we're not going anywhere until she's okay."

Rick stood stoic and held his ground. "You heard the man," he said. "Guess we're staying put."

Abraham huffed and tightened the strap on his rifle. He turned sharply on his heel and started down the road. Rosita reluctantly followed. "Let's go Eugene," he commanded.

Eugene remained still with his arms stiff at his sides. His eyes darted back and forth between Beth and Rick, assessing his next move.

"I said, let's go."

Abraham was on the verge of lashing out completely, and after Eugene still refused to move, he charged. Rosita grabbed for his arm, but he shoved her back. She lost her footing and fell to the ground.

"Hey!" Sasha took a stand in front of Eugene, protecting him from whatever Abraham was about to do. "You need to step back."

"This doesn't concern you," he muttered angrily.

She scowled and held her ground.

"I don't wanna go," Eugene said. His tone was barely audible because of how violently he was shaking.

Abraham clenched his teeth and set his jaw. " _Eugene_."

"If he doesn't wanna go, he doesn't have to," Rick implied. "We'll leave first thing in the morning if Beth is able."

"He stays with me!"

Abraham stepped into Rick's direct personal space and at the same time both Glenn and Bob took a stance to stop him. Suddenly everyone was yelling. The chaos and frustration was too much for Daryl to absorb. It unsettled him and made him anxious. Beth continued to lie motionless in his arms, limply resting in against his lap, and he pulled her close. He tried to shield her from the mayhem and protect her from their anger, but they were out of control. They were being too loud. Pretty soon walkers would start roaming out of the trees and come for them all if they didn't settle down. He was close to stepping in himself, but he couldn't leave Beth's side.

Before he'd even made up his mind, however, Eugene yelled out over the commotion.

"I'm not a scientist!"

At first no one really heard him. Daryl did, and so did Maggie, but the group of men acting like children were still too distracted by their tussle. Eugene yelled again, a little bit louder with more bravado, and then they all stopped.

"What?" Glenn questioned.

"I'm not a scientist," he repeated. His tone settled, but his body was on edge. Daryl could see the muscles in his arms and legs twitching with nerves.

Rosita stepped forward with freshly scraped knees and a look that could kill. "What do you mean, you're not a scientist?"

Eugene's demeanor suddenly became very grim. He realized what he'd done, and it was too late.

"I- umm… I lied."

Rosita absorbed his words, then absorbed her surroundings. "Did you do this?"

Eugene nodded spastically. "I cut the brake lines, cause I thought it'd slow us down. The closer we got to D.C., I knew I needed to… do something."

Abraham began walking at a fast pace and made a beeline straight for Eugene. Before anyone could grab him, he landed one solid hit to Eugene's jaw. He fell back and landed on the concrete with a hard _thump_. Sasha and Michonne rushed to him, rolling him over and patting at his face.

" _What the hell is wrong with you?_ " Maggie hissed, but Abraham was already gone.

He turned away from the group and began walking down the road in the opposite direction. He stopped several yards away from where the RV had crashed and fell to his knees. While the others tried to arouse Eugene, Daryl couldn't help but lose focus from the entire situation. He pulled Beth to his chest and heaved a heavy sigh. He was angry. Yes, Eugene had lied. He was very angry about that. But that didn't really change anything in Daryl's mind. He hadn't been fully convinced there was a cure in the first place, and even if it did exist, his faith in humanity falling back into a normal rhythm felt too far fetched to fathom.

"It's just us, Beth," he whispered in her ear. "It's just you and me."

Beth opened her eyes, and the first thing that hit her was her sense of smell. She could smell the trees around her, but she also picked up the subtle hint of smoke. The accident arrived bluntly at the forefront of her memory, but she couldn't remember the details. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of falling sideways.

She lifted her head and immediately regretted it. A sharp pain radiated from her temple and down through her neck. She felt stiff, and her mind felt heavy.

"Beth?"

She looked carefully to her left and found Daryl sitting next to her. It took noticing his presence to realize she was on the ground. They both were. The group must have settled somewhere in the woods for the night. She found the source of smoke. A fire burned a few feet away from her, and she could feel the tiniest bit of warmth from the flames on the soles of her boots.

"You're alright," Daryl assured her. "You scared me, but you're alright."

He was telling her rather than asking if she was okay, because he knew that was what she needed to hear.

"What happened?" she asked.

He swallowed and placed a hand on her forehead to motion her back to a resting position. "We lost the RV. It crashed. You were knocked out."

"Is everyone else okay?"

"They're fine. People have cuts and bruises, but you had to go and be selfish and take the worst of it." He was smiling, so she allowed herself to as well, but just when she did his faltered. "Listen," he started. "Eugene lied."

"About what?"

She stared at him, waiting for an answer, but he kept quiet. This was Daryl. He couldn't form the sentence he needed to tell her when it was something that might let her down. That was how badly he didn't want to disappoint her.

"There's no cure," she stated softly, knowing the truth. "Is there?"

Daryl shook his head. "If there is, he ain't got it."

Beth closed her eyes. It couldn't truly be a disappointment when she'd never really known what could happen, but she couldn't help feeling just a little bit let down. This was hope, and hope was rare in a world like this.

"Hey," Daryl cooed. "I need you to not die on me, okay?"

She scrunched her eyes into a scowl. "I ain't planning to. Not unless you do."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Then neither am I."

He kissed her on the top of her head and then left her to sleep. She still felt lightheaded, and the lack of food and water wasn't helping her strength, so she closed her eyes and drifted into a dream.

Beth and Maggie were helping to put out the last of the burning embers early that next morning when they were greeted by a stranger. He stepped out of the trees with his hands raised and a welcoming grin on his face, but both girls immediately raised their weapons in his direction out of instinct.

"It's okay," the man claimed. "I'm a friend."

He took two tentative steps forward, easing himself closer to where they stood. The others had already cleared the camp, so Beth deduced that if things got bad she'd have to scream to get them to turn back. She gave Maggie a quick glance out of the corner of her eye and knew she was on the same page.

"I'd like to speak with the one in charge. That's Rick, right?"

Beth heard Maggie involuntarily gasp under her breath. She tilted her head and tried to gage what she could from the man that looked so trustworthy yet so dangerous at the same time.

"How do you…?"

" _You ain't doin' shit._ _Get on the ground!_ "

Daryl was at Beth's shoulder in seconds with his crossbow raised and aimed.

The man dropped to the ground without hesitation and began rambling. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm not a threat. I just wanna talk."

Daryl kicked the man's backpack away from him and pulled him up onto this knees. He used one hand to pat him down while the other kept the crossbow pointed right at his head.

"You been watchin' us, prick?" Daryl accused.

"Yes."

Beth was surprised he admitted it. Maybe he _could_ be trusted.

Daryl stepped back and lowered his bow. "Alright, then. You wanna talk so bad, what you gotta say?"

The man smiled and with it the tension in his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"I have good news," he said. "I know you've been out here for a while, looking for place to settle down. I'm from a place called Alexandria, and I'd like to welcome you to join us."


	12. Part 12

The man's name was Aaron.

Beth didn't think he looked dangerous, but Rick took zero chances nowadays. He frisked the man from top to bottom after the girls led him back to the group. Even after Daryl insisted he'd already checked him, Rick did it again. Twice.

Aaron was now sitting with his back to a tree, hands tied loosely behind his back and posture slumped in what had to be a very uncomfortable position. Beth brought him a bottle with a small bit of water and offered it over without a second thought. The man smiled and gracefully declined.

"You need it more than I do," he said. "Besides. I brought plenty."

He nodded to what was now a small stockpile of water bottles next to the loot Rick pulled from his pack on the ground. In the center were two gallon jugs full to the brim.

"You brought us water?" she asked.

"You need it. Why would I not?"

Beth pursed her lips and nodded her head once. She understood. She knew this man was good. She just had to give the others time to see it.

She stood up straight and backed away, closer to Daryl. He stood rigid next to her, keeping his hand resting idly on the strap of his bow.

"Did you come back for us?" Beth asked him quietly. Rick was now interrogating their guest. "You were ahead with the rest of the group, how'd you know me and Maggie were in trouble?"

"I didn't," he said. His natural gravelly tone was rougher than usual. "I'm never that far away from you, Beth. You know that."

"So you stayed behind on purpose."

"You and Maggie shouldn't have lingered. We can't get separated."

Beth smiled to herself. "You're right. I know."

He cocked his head and turned marginally in her direction. "What?"

She faced him full-on, smile clearly visible against his scowl. "You're always protecting me. You're like my guardian angel."

His lip twitched, then he stroked her chin lightly with his thumb and index finger. "Yeah."

""⬧""

It turned out Aaron actually was trustworthy. Rick finally believed him after sending out four of their own to scout the area for the car he claimed to have left behind. That, along with an old pickup truck, was parked on a road blocked by a fallen tree not two miles down from where they were held up. After managing to start another car that was hidden in the tree line, they somehow squeezed everyone into three vehicles and made their way to a place called Alexandria.

This was what Beth had been hoping for.

Nothing could compare to the look on Rick's face when they stood in front of the gate and heard sounds of life erupting behind it. Children laughing and casual conversations being exchanged. This was going to work. This was the break everyone desperately needed.

The woman in charge was named Deanna. She spoke with each of them individually as a sort of interview before they all were properly welcomed into the community. They were given fresh clothes and told to pick their own house on the block. There were _houses_. Houses for _everyone_. Maggie and Glenn offered Beth a place with them, but before she could respectfully decline, Daryl was telling Deanna that Beth already had a place to stay.

"She stays with me," he said.

So, Beth followed him down the street and through the front door of their new home.

On the inside, everything appeared normal. If she blocked out the rest of the world, it was like the outside didn't exist. The apocalypse never happened. The house was like a sanctuary, and just like the funeral home, it would serve as an escape for the two of them. Together.

She stepped lightly through each room, taking in the color on the walls and the position of the furniture. Daryl was conducting his own inspection, but it wasn't for his own enjoyment. He was checking the locks on the windows and making sure there were easy escape routes. Just in case.

He was finally about to speak when there was a soft knock at the front door. Daryl held his hand up in protest when Beth made a move to answer it, but she went anyway. There was a strikingly beautiful woman with blond hair just as fair as hers waiting on the porch. She was holding a laundry basket full of supplies, including toiletries and cans of food.

"Hi," she greeted. "I'm Jessie."

"Hi. I'm Beth. And this is Daryl."

Daryl nodded curtly but refused to acknowledge the woman any further.

"I told Deanna I'd volunteer to help you guys get settled. I've put together a few necessities for everyone, you can take whatever you need."

Beth took the basket and held it firmly with both hands. She peered down into the container and examined the contents. She hadn't seen a toothbrush in months. "Thank you," she said. "This is kind of you."

"It's no trouble. I heard you were out there for a while." Jessie looked down and stared at her feet with a somber expression. "I'm sure living here will take some getting used to."

"It's definitely different. But we're grateful."

Jessie lifted her face and relaxed. "Feel free to get washed up and settled before the party. I'll see you tonight."

She turned to leave, but Beth stopped her before getting too far. "Party?"

Jessie pivoted on her heel. "Deanna didn't tell you?"

Beth shook her head.

"Sorry. I might have spoiled the surprise." She let out a nervous laugh and sighed. "Anyway, take your time. Oh, and I know it's tempting, but try not to take a super long shower. We've got water, but we're still trying to conserve it as much as we can."

"No problem," Beth agreed. "Thanks again."

Beth closed the door and retreated to the kitchen. She placed the basket of supplies down on the table in front of Daryl. He was sitting at the far end by a window, head slumped in his hands and left leg fidgeting up and down.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He stopped moving. "Yeah. I'm good. Just don't know how I feel about everything just yet."

She pulled out a chair and sat down next to him. Pulling his hands away from his face, she forced him to look at her. "This place is going to work," she assured him. "I've got a good feeling."

"I wanna believe it."

"You will." She teased little circles with her thumb in the palm of his hand. "Now, come on. Let's go get cleaned up."

"You go," he insisted.

"You're not gonna join me? You heard what Jessie said. We have to conserve water."

He managed a smile, but still refused. "I'm gonna look around some more. Check in with Rick." When he saw the look of disappointment on her face, he leaned closer and kissed her cheek. "I'm fine," he said. "Promise."

""⬧""

Daryl made three trips around the perimeter of the town with Rick before they felt it was secure enough to settle in. Even then, they didn't quite settle completely. After the party that evening, Rick insisted they would each take turns keeping watch between the neighboring houses. Rick, Carl and Michonne were directly across from Daryl and Beth, and on either side of both were the remaining members of the group. All together they made a neat little square at the end of the block, so it wouldn't be hard to keep a close eye on everyone at once. There was little chance of walkers getting inside the gates, but it wasn't the dead that Daryl was concerned with. He didn't trust the people, and neither did Rick. On the outside they seemed decent, but Daryl knew better than to only look skindeep.

When he got back to the house, Beth was already gone. He smelled the strong scent of body wash and shampoo lofting down from the upstairs bathroom, so he knew she must have taken that shower. He wasn't planning to attend any parties, but cleaning up did sound somewhat appealing, so he went upstairs, stripping off his vest and unlooping the belt from his pants. It dropped to the floor with a heavy thud due to the knives and loaded gun he still had strapped to it, and for a second the loudness of it made him flinch. But the house remained still. No walkers. No threat. Just him. Alone.

He took his time in the shower despite the woman's warning not to. The hot water pouring over his scalp and down his back felt too unbelievably good to stop. To unbelievably real. The steam relaxed his aching muscles, and scrubbing away layers of dirt from his skin made him feel pounds lighter. When he got out, he couldn't find a towel, so he merely shook himself off like a dog and redressed in a black T-shirt and old pair of jeans he'd found in the bedroom closet. They fit decently, but the shirt was a bit loose for his typical standards. He wondered what Beth would have picked out for herself. There were plenty of girly things hanging around for her to choose from, so he guessed Jessie was the one responsible for providing such an accurate wardrobe.

After unpacking the basket of food and supplies that Beth had left on the kitchen table, he went outside and lit a cigarette. He stood there briefly, waiting for some sign of movement to catch his eye, but he was still very much alone. So, he sat on the front steps and waited. A few minutes later, he looked up and saw Michonne exiting the house across the street. She was wearing a dress, and her hair was pulled partially back within a fancy knot. She looked nice.

She approached him cautiously, then scoffed. "That's a new look."

"Same goes for you."

She looked down at the navy blue dress that hit the middle of her thighs. "I don't usually like to wear these, but they said it was a party, so…"

"You gotta play the part, right?" he finished her sentence.

"Right." She took a seat next to him and leaned back on her hands. "I don't think I've ever seen you in sleeves."

He shoved her playfully, then took another drag.

"Wear's Beth?"

"Where you're supposed to be. She already left."

"You're not going?"

"Nah." He slumped his shoulders. "Ain't my thing."

"It's not mine either," she said, "but you've got a part to play, too. We all do. If we want this to work."

"We'll see."

Daryl focused his eyes on his boots. He scrapped his heels against the pavement, moving back and forth methodically to keep his mind from wandering too far. He should have gone with Beth. He should have made an effort. But it was too late to take it back now.

Michonne got to her feet and gave him a parting grin. He watched her walk down the street and waited until the end of his cigarette was so low it burnt his fingers before he too stood up. He was going to go back inside, maybe make up the bedroom in a way that would help it feel homier for when Beth got back from the party, but someone else caught his attention.

"Not ready to mingle just yet?"

It was Aaron. He was approaching from the opposite direction that Michonne had retreated and was carrying a rifle strapped across his back. He'd come from outside the walls.

"Why'd you say that?" Daryl asked, a bit unsettled.

Aaron shook his head and stopped just in front of Daryl's steps. "I didn't think very many people would agree to Deanna's party so soon. I guess I was right about at least one of you."

Daryl pursed his lips. "Yeah. Guess so."

"Do you wanna come have dinner with us?"

"With who?"

"Sorry," Aaron fumbled over his words. He pointed across the street. "Eric and I. We're just on the other side of your friends. We're making spaghetti if you'd rather have a decent meal than nibble on cocktail snacks."

Daryl didn't want to be in the company of strangers, but he also didn't want to be alone. Beth wouldn't think twice about such a nice invitation. She'd want them to make friends. So, he agreed.

""⬧""

They spent hours sitting around a tiny table in Aaron's home, swapping stories about their lives before the world turned to shit and downing two full bottles of red wine. Daryl didn't like wine, but he drank it anyway because he didn't want to be rude and ask for something else. Besides, they had water, and that served as a nice chaser between sips from his fancy glass.

Aaron and Eric were very curious. Being out there with the walkers was something they weren't very familiar with. The two of them bounced from one group to another, settling in towns and schools and libraries. They'd never had to spend nights in the woods with no food or proper shelter. They didn't have to make it a habit to look over their shoulder without ever truly getting a good night's sleep. It frustrated Daryl to no end that the people living in Alexandria were so sheltered from what waited for them just on the other side of the gate, but at the same time, he was extremely jealous of how lucky they were. They'd had it easy. They probably hadn't lost that many people, but they didn't really know what it felt like to survive.

Nonetheless, it turned out that Aaron was good company. He didn't push Daryl to talk when he didn't want to. No one felt awkward not filling the silences when they popped up during lulls in conversation. He enjoyed just sitting there, eating a real meal and not having to think, but it had been several hours since Beth left for the party, and he was beginning to feel concerned.

He opted out of desert and left Aaron's house around 8:30. It didn't mean that much to him before, seeing that he'd gotten used to not having a watch, but suddenly knowing the time made it seem that much later. It was dark, and when he opened the door to his house - that still felt odd to think about - there were no lights. The candles he'd placed around the windows and on the kitchen table were still unused. Beth wasn't home.

He turned on the spot to head back out the door but ran smack into who he'd been looking for.

"What the hell?" Beth sputtered, collecting herself.

"'m sorry," he grumbled. He grabbed her shoulders and held her steady. "I was just going to look for you."

"I was doing the same thing," she admitted. "I came home ten minutes ago and you weren't here. I thought you were taking another walk around the perimeter, but Rick said he never saw you."

She sounded panicked - even more so than he felt - so he pulled her against his chest and stroked his hands through her hair. It was soft and completely free of tangles. It smelled like lavender. "I was at Aaron's," he told her. "I'm sorry."

Beth looked up at him with her big blue eyes. "Aaron?"

"He invited me over for spaghetti."

She licked her lips. "Sounds good. Deanna didn't really have much."

"I can go get you some if you're hungry," he suggested, already moving for the door. "I'm sure he won't care."

"No. No. It's fine." She pulled him back. "I can eat later. Let's just stay here."

Beth took his hand and pulled him further into the house. She stopped at the couch and gestured for him to take a seat, but he didn't want to sit down. He stood there, watching her move carefully across the floor in front of him. She lit the candles by the window that he'd placed there just for her. They created a soft glow that bounced across her skin as she moved. He hadn't noticed what she was wearing before, but now the sight of her legs under that tiny green sundress set him on edge. She was gorgeous, and she was his.

She stood in front of him. Her hands moved to the shoulders of the dress and began slipping them down her arms. "This new home," she started, letting the dress hit the floor. It pooled at her feet, but that wasn't where Daryl was looking. "I want to make it ours."

Beth placed her arms around his shoulders and pulled him to her. His hands automatically fell at her waist, and before he could take it all in, they were dancing. There was no music. They had nothing to follow along with besides the rhythm of his own heart beating within his chest, but that was pumping entirely too fast. So, instead, he let their steps fall into a slow sway. He'd never done this before. Never danced with another person. He'd never allowed himself to be in such a situation or even consider the idea of it, but it was nice. It was comforting. And it was her. She rested her head against his chest and breathed in.

"You smell nice," she whispered.

"So do you."

A smile teased her lips. "Showers will do that."

"Next time, I promise I'll join you." He squeezed her waist. "It ain't as fun alone."

She giggled into his shirt, hiding her face and wrinkling the fabric. Having her so close felt familiar. It felt like something he'd been missing his entire life, and now that he'd found it, he never wanted to forget. He never wanted to lose that feeling.

"I love you," he spoke softly.

"I love you too, Daryl."

He felt himself being pulled to her like a magnet. His lips found hers, and they tasted sweet. They hadn't had this since that first night in the funeral home. They didn't have moments like this to linger in and hold on to. He could keep his mouth on hers all night and it wouldn't matter, because they weren't going anywhere. This was _their_ home, and he was going to take his time in it.

His hands grabbed her thighs and lifted them to straddle his hips. Walking backwards to find the stairs, he carefully took one step at a time until they were on the second floor. The bedroom was waiting for them around the first corner, but before making it to the bed, Beth was already diving under his shirt to pull it over his head. She was frantic and desperate, but he didn't want it to be like the last time. He didn't want it to be quick or rough. He wanted to love her, slow and for as long as he could stand it.

Daryl tossed her gently onto the surface of the bed and grabbed her hands. "Slow down, girl," he instructed her. "I've got you."

Her lips quivered while her legs were still locked around him. She nodded her head and relaxed just enough for him to finish removing his clothes. He stood very still, taking in all that was his lying on the bed underneath him. Then he leaned over her body, his mouth just above her ear.

"Beth," he cooed her name. "Turn over."


	13. Part 13

Her mouth made a filthy grin, and she rolled over carefully.

As she did, he peeled off the thin layer of cotton that kept her from being fully exposed to him. Daryl took off his shirt and pants. Shoes. Socks. He stripped down to nothing and then crawled over her on the bed. He hovered just above her, straddling either side of her hips, and he brushed away the hair that covered her back. He kissed down her spine, soft and slow. She squirmed under his touch, and he relished in it. He slid one hand under her stomach and lifted her up so that she was on her knees. He knelt behind her. Ever so slowly, he traced a line with his fingers starting from her belly button. He moved further down, closer and closer to where he knew that slick heat was waiting for him. She quivered and he heard her let out a sharp sigh when he finally reached her clit.

One soft stroke. She gasped.

He was getting good at this. Not that it was complicated, but he'd been so much more afraid the first time. This was easy. He knew he didn't have to impress her. She was already impressed. She already wanted him, and all he had to do was give in. Give her whatever she craved. If she wanted his hands, he'd give her his hands. If she wanted his mouth, he'd give her his mouth. Anything she wanted. It was hers.

Beth bent her back, carelessly pressing her ass against his growing erection. He bit his lip and swallowed. He had to keep it together. It wasn't about him right now.

Gripping his free hand around her hip, he continued to provide long and tender strokes with his fingers. She was already a mess - warm and wet and ready for his… _fuck_ his dick was hard - but he wanted to draw this out. He wanted to take his time. Beth's heavy breaths were muffled where her face was planted firmly into the surface of the bed. She turned her head, taking in fresh air, and he caught the most beautiful look of pleasure as it escaped her. Her mouth was open. Her eyes were closed. Her hands moved above her head and dug into the comforter. She was getting closer and closer to climaxing, but just when he felt her tighten around him, he stopped.

She gasped. "Is this going to be a thing with you?" she huffed in frustration.

He yanked her closer by the thighs then stroked her hair soothingly. "I'm not done."

Beth tilted her head, allowing him unobstructed access to her neck, and he sucked lightly at the skin under her ear. "Daryl," she moaned. "Please."

"You want my mouth?" he asked.

She nodded, but kept quiet.

"You gotta tell me," he said. "What you want, girl?"

"I-I…" she struggled. "I want your mouth."

"Where?"

She took his hand and placed it back between her legs. "Here."

 _Whelp. If that's what she wanted._

He flipped her onto her back and spread her knees. She looked a bit shocked at first with his display of dominance, but he could tell she was enjoying it. This was fun for both of them, now that he could be comfortable in being confident.

Daryl sucked gently on the slope of her knee. He ran his tongue up her thigh then plunged face first into the core of her heat. Beth let out a squeal and reflexively covered her mouth. Her other hand grabbed his hair and tugged. The jerking motion of it only forced his tongue further inside and she yelped again. He took her hand and pressed it firmly into the mattress, keeping her still. He waited for her to relax. Then, he started again. He'd never had the desire to do this before, not to anyone for any reason, but Beth was different. She tasted like… well, she tasted like Beth. That was it. That was what made him devour everything in front of him. It was her.

"Oh, _oh god_ …"

The noises and exclamations coming out of her mouth were enough to make him cum right then and there, but he held it back. He focused solely on the movements of his tongue. The rhythm of the fingers he was now using to help send her over the edge. She was shaking. The muscles in her legs flexed and spasmed. Then she froze. A cry of pure ecstasy released from the back of her throat and she released.

He wiped the remnants of her from his mouth. Kissed her stomach and her chest.

"I like not having to be quiet," she admitted, catching her breath.

Daryl got to his feet. "Is the house ours yet?"

"Not even close." She crawled to him at the edge of the bed and grabbed his cock firmly within her gentle fingers.

He couldn't help it. A sound came out of him that didn't make sense. He'd never heard it before, because no one had ever provoked it. She smiled wickedly and kissed him slow and deep. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, then let go. Completely.

He was way too hard to think about anything else now. The absence of her hand made him ache, deep in the pit of his stomach and all the way to the tip of his cock. "Shit, Beth."

"Are you gonna let me return the favor this time?" She pressed into him, and he could feel her nipples sharp against his chest.

"How you mean?" he managed to ask.

"Do you want my mouth, Daryl?"

She'd whispered it. So quiet that he had to play it back in his head to really grasp it.

Maybe it would be okay. She was different. She was better. It didn't mean the same things.

"Come on," she begged. Then she drew a serious expression. "It's okay. I promise."

He nodded slowly, and she pulled him back onto the bed. She placed him on his back so she could straddle his knees, but before doing anything else, she placed a hand on his chest just over his heart. "You know I love you, right?" she asked.

"Of course," he agreed.

She pressed her lips together. "Then let me do this."

He did. And he wished he would have let her do it sooner. It was like the Great Wall of China was crashing down around him. Fireworks exploded in the sky. Gunfire lit up the demons in the back of his mind and blew them away. He tried to keep still, but with every tantalizing movement from her mouth he felt himself losing control. Up and down. Sucking. Licking. _Fuck,_ she was incredible. Where the hell had she learned how to do this? _Scratch that_. He didn't want to know.

 _Shit._ Now she was using her hands. It was too much, but it kept going. Waves of pleasure hitting him over and over again. Minutes went by, or maybe it was hours. He was about to cum, and he needed to warn her.

"Beth, I'm gonna…"

She removed her mouth but kept pumping with her hand. She squeezed and released, just tight enough to push him to the brink of exploding. Then he did. He let out a string of curses and seized up. She let go, and he heard her laugh.

"That wasn't so bad, right?"

He involuntarily rolled his eyes. They were closed, so she couldn't see it, but he felt stupid. "Yeah, whatever."

She settled on her side, and they rested next to one another for a long while, listening to the quiet hum of chatter coming from outside. There were people and walkers alike filling the silence of the night. Just outside their window was the wall, and just past that perimeter was the danger that always waited for them. Daryl liked having it there to remind him. He never wanted to forget. Never wanted to get too soft, settling in this house and losing his fear. Fear was what kept them alive. It was what kept _her_ alive.

He pulled her to his chest and kissed her forehead. "My girl," he spoke into the soft waves of her hair.

She pressed into him. Buried her face in his chest. Then she reached to kiss him. Her lips never ceased to amaze him. They were a cloud, and he fell through them every single time they touched. Yet that kept him steady. Held him up. She was more important than the sun. She _was_ the sun.

Daryl rolled Beth onto her back. He continued to kiss her, moving his lips against her in a methodical rhythm. Her tongue danced with his. Their hands intertwined. They could get lost in just this for hours, but he wanted more. He still hadn't had enough of her body. He didn't think that craving would ever be quenched, but at least for tonight he had a goal in mind.

She hummed into his mouth when he wrapped his arms around her torso. She smiled against his cheek when he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. They were sticky with sweat and the results from round one, so he thought killing two birds with one shower would be an efficient way to conserve water and finish the game. It would technically be their second shower of the day, but who the hell was gonna come in and stop them?

She giggled into his shoulder when he held her in his lap, trying to balance her weight and turn on the faucet at the same time. He wasn't going to let her fall - wasn't going to let go - and she knew that. But she clung to him anyway. When he felt the temperature was just right, he stepped under the steady stream and placed her back on her feet. He double checked to make sure it wasn't too hot before he let it pour over her face. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. The water ran in rivers over her mouth and nose. It matted down her hair where it was tossed over her shoulder and he pushed it away so it fell in one neat clump down her back. There was a single braid mixed into the thick locks of blond, and when he tried to undo it, it only tangled more. She helped him pull the mess free and reached for the bottle of shampoo.

"Here," she said, squeezing out the soapy contents into the palm of his hand.

He began to lather it into her scalp. The feeling of it must have been more incredible than sex, because Beth was suddenly in a state of euphoria. She hummed lightly, pressing her lips firmly together.

"Should I be jealous of shampoo now?" he teased.

She laughed innocently. "No. I just love having my hair played with."

"Who else played with your hair?"

She became still. Then quickly regained her composure. "My mom," she said. "And Maggie, when I was little."

An uncomfortable groan came from the back of Daryl's throat. "Not like this, I hope." He was already feeling himself getting hard again, and his erection was pressing into her stomach.

"Nope." She winked, and shampoo ran down the bridge of her nose.

She was too fucking cute. Too adorable and sexy at the same time that it was hard for him to process it all at once. How could she look so innocent and yet be a pro at playing dirty?

After her hair was rinsed clean, she took her turn and washed his. It didn't take nearly as long, but she made it last, digging her fingers into his crown and massaging his temples. He understood why she looked like she'd been in heaven. It felt pretty damn good. Pretty close to being inside her. But no. Not quite.

There were bits of suds collecting around her chest and on her shoulders. He palmed one of her breasts and allowed his hand to slide over the slick texture of her skin. He'd never been ready to go again this quickly before, but she did things to him that he couldn't explain. He was pulsing below his abdomen, and when he let his hand slide all the way down her stomach and between her legs, it wasn't just the water that was making her wet. Daryl moved her so she was flat against the wall of the shower. His head was now under the constant stream, and the feeling of water cascading down his back was even better than before. Her hands gripped at his shoulders and ran over his scars. They blended with the water, calming him and arousing him simultaneously.

"We can't stay in here forever," she told him. "Can't waste water."

He knew that. And goddammit, he felt bad about it for all of ten seconds. But then he didn't. He was going to enjoy this, even if they beat him for it later.

Daryl shut her up by hitching one of her legs over his hip and immediately slipping inside her. She gasped, and it echoed around the small space. He didn't move. Just stayed there, waiting for her to make him do something. Her leg tightened around him, and he lifted the other one so she could relax against the wall.

"Better than a tree?" He was being coy.

Her eyes were dark with lust. With every labored breath she took in, her finger dug deeper into the scars on his back. It was the worst kind of pain and the best sort of pleasure all mixed up into one. Just like she'd told him. Just like he continued to feel every day that he was with her. Because that was what falling in love felt like. Even still, he continued to fall more and more every day. And he'd never stop. Never.

His nose was pressed into hers. He stared her down, waiting for her next move. Her mouth parted and she panted heavily against him. She tried to shift her weight, tried to create some sort of friction between them, but he held her steady.

"Daryl, please," she begged.

He obliged. But only just. He moved out of her and back in again. The relief on her face was priceless, but it quickly disappeared when he refused to move a second time.

Her head fell back against the wall and she whimpered, " _Shit."_

This was just plain mean. He was basically torturing himself, and he knew that, but he loved it. She wanted him so desperately, and that feeling was better than any handshake or slap on the back from the rest of the group. Yes, he was a protector - they relied on him to keep everyone safe - but Beth relied on him for more than that. For more than _this,_ of course _._

But _this_ … this was still important.

He began to move. Very, very slowly. He started a rhythm, and it was just enough to make her eyes close and her jaw fall slack. He kept it going for as long as he could, then he slammed into her. He hit the spot that made her nearly scream, and he had to reach up and cover her mouth. By the time he remembered that it didn't matter how loud they were, she'd slipped a little from his hold, but he caught her. He wouldn't let her fall.

Beth bit her lip as he pulled his hand away. "Again," she instructed him.

So, he pumped into her again. Harder and deeper every time, but never increasing his speed. He kept that same rhythm until her fingernails began to draw blood from his skin. He loved it. Wanted more of it. So, he let her make him bleed. They were both close to an orgasm, and it took everything to keep from moving faster, but he kept at it. Kept that same slow and forceful movement until the very end. Until they were both rolling over the top of that roller coaster together. Until they were so weak and limp in each other's arms that they slid down to the floor of the shower and collapsed.

They waited until the strength in their legs returned enough to stand up, and then they rinsed off quickly with a bar of soap. The bathroom was full of steam. It coated the mirrors and left a residue on the counter of the sink. As they dried one another off in fluffy towels, Beth looked deep into Daryl's eyes and smiled.

"Are you ever going to stop wanting this?" she asked.

He looked to the mirror and used his index finger to write one word on the surface.

 _Never._


	14. Part 14

They didn't get much sleep.

They both dozed off every few hours only to wake up pressed against one another in the dark, groping sleepily with tired limbs and sharing lazy kisses under the covers. At one point, Beth thought she was dreaming. The feel of him - against her, on top of her, inside her - it made her euphoric.

When the sun woke her around seven the next morning, she found herself sprawled across his torso, still naked and comfortably warm. She wanted to make him breakfast, but even that took a ridiculous amount of concentration due to Daryl's constant distractions. He ended up taking her right there bent over the kitchen table, and she wasn't even upset about burning the food. They ate it anyway, and if they cared any less, they would've kept repeating the same pattern, never leaving the house. But they did care, and Daryl had a job to do. They all had jobs to do.

Deanna had assigned them to everyone, but Aaron had handpicked Daryl as his new recruiter in place of his partner, Eric. Beth didn't have a job yet. She wanted one, but she was afraid of what she might get tossed into. She didn't want to be stuck in the kitchen or in charge of daycare. Sure, she hadn't minded stepping into that role when they were at the jail, but things felt different now. She wasn't that girl anymore. Beth wanted to be useful. She wanted to help protect their new home.

Rick called a meeting later that morning to discuss everyone's new roles. Maggie was going to serve as Deanna's apprentice, Glenn and Noah joined the group that made supply runs, Sasha was appointed to keep watch at one of the towers, and many of the rest filled in the gaps around town with various duties. Rick, Michonne, and Beth were strategically left out. As the others dispersed, Rick addressed Michonne. Daryl and Beth lingered behind.

"Deanna hasn't mentioned anything to us about what our jobs will be yet," Rick said, "but when she does, we should be willing to help. We need to make it look like we're settling in."

"We ain't gotta make it look like anything," Daryl cut in. "We should try."

Rick lowered his head. "I want the others to try. But we need to stay sharp, just in case."

Michonne nodded curtly and stood up. "I get it. I do." Then she left.

Beth got it too, but she didn't say anything. She knew Rick was only trying to keep his family safe. After everything they'd been through, he couldn't risk losing anyone else because he might have felt safe when he shouldn't have.

"What about her?" Daryl asked Rick.

He'd been referring to Beth, so she hovered patiently at Daryl's side as Rick waited for Michonne to be out of earshot. Then he spoke.

"I have my own job for you, Beth," he said. "And it might not be exactly what you were thinking."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I need you to play your innocent card." Rick swallowed hard. "I know you can fight. I've seen you out there. You're a lot stronger than everyone thinks, and I need you to keep it that way. At least for now."

"What does that mean?" Daryl questioned haughtily.

"It means, just pretend that you're not good with a gun. Keep watching over Judith. Make them think you're not watching."

Beth clicked her tongue apathetically. "You want me to be a spy."

"More or less."

Daryl stepped away and paced across the room. Rick's home was a mirror image of the one Beth and Daryl shared, given that everything was placed oppositely within the space. Daryl placed his hands flat down on the kitchen counter and hung his head. He stayed that way while Beth considered her options, then she came to a decision.

"Okay," she agreed. "I can do that."

Daryl's head jerked upward. "What?"

"It's fine. I can do it." She looked to Rick. "You're right, they won't even notice me."

She locked her eyes on the discontent in Daryl's face until she forced it to fade away. He sighed and straightened.

"Fine," he said, stepping just in front of her. He leaned in close, not giving a second thought to Rick watching their every move, and cupped her cheek in his hand. "But the second you hear or see anything that don't sit right," he added, "you tell me. Don't be brave."

She blinked and gave him a slow smile. "Okay."

"Alright," Rick let out. "It's settled."

""⧫""

She tried to suck it up and play house, but the dullness was wearing on her.

Beth loved Judith. She loved playing with her and keeping her fed and tucking her in at naptime, but she knew that time could be spent doing better things. She knew that Rick had assigned her for baby duty partly because he didn't trust anyone else to do it, but what about Carl? They could take turns. Beth wanted to be on the wall. She wanted to kill walkers and keep an eye on the perimeter. Daryl had taught her how to track and hunt when they were alone, so even being part of the scouting crew would be better than cleaning spit-up all day.

Nonetheless, she tried. She sat in Rick's house, rocking Judith to sleep and staring out the window for six days before finally giving in and doing something. If Rick wanted her to be a spy, she sure as hell wasn't going to sit around waiting for something suspicious to fall into her lap. So, she chose to be active.

Sasha and Tyreese were walking past the house on their way back from gate duty when Beth got their attention. They both came over, guns resting across their shoulders and heads held high.

Tyreese greeted her first. "Hey, Beth. What's up?"

"Can you maybe watch Judith for a little bit?" she asked. "I've been meaning to grab some things from the supply pantry but haven't had time."

Sasha relaxed her stance. "Yeah, sure. We don't mind." She ascended the steps of the porch and traded her rifle for the baby.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes tops," Beth assured her. "She just woke up from a nap so she's just looking for someone to play with."

"We can definitely do that," Tyreese said, grinning and taking Judith's little fist as she waved it at him. "Take your time."

Beth nodded and hurried across the street.

Olivia was in charge of checking out supplies from the pantry. She also kept a close watch on all the guns that were locked up just on the other side of the door. Beth had only spoken with Olivia once before, but she figured she could get by with some casual small talk. Rick had mentioned needing to keep their guns on them, but Deanna had insisted on having them checked in the moment they'd arrived. If Beth could get a hold of some handguns, it might make Rick feel better. And it would certainly prove she was useful.

"Hello," Olivia greeted her as she walked through the door. "You're Beth, right?"

Beth nodded innocently. "And you're Olivia."

"Nice to officially meet you." The woman extended her hand and Beth took it shyly. "You need to load up on some things?"

"I do actually," Beth concurred. She began rummaging through the shelves, picking up a box of noodles and a can of tomato sauce.

"Making spaghetti?" Olivia assumed.

"Maybe. Daryl said he had some his first night here, and I can't stop thinking about it."

Olivia tossed her a smaller box with angel hair pasta inside. "Take this instead. I've been hiding it for myself, because there's only the one, but you should have it."

Beth clutched the box to her chest. "Thanks."

"I've seen you two together," Olivia noted, then clarified, "you and Daryl. He really looks out for you, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, he does. I wouldn't have made it without him. It was just me and him for a while, and he taught me a lot." She wasn't lying, but she could feel the start of tall tale slipping from her lips. "I didn't even know how to use a gun. I'm still not great at it, but I know he'll protect me."

Olivia smiled. "That's nice. I wish I had that."

"You've got a whole town full of people. I'm sure at least one of them cares enough."

"Not like that. You've got something special with that guy. You're lucky. To find that in all of this." She gestured around the room as if to say the shelves were hiding walkers ready to leap out and attack. "It's rare you get to start over after losing everything."

Beth chewed nervously at her bottom lip. She didn't want to tell her it was going to be okay. She couldn't know that. Beth didn't know if Olivia would ever find someone like Daryl to look out for her, but she _did_ know that Olivia probably didn't need to. In this world, in order to survive, you have to take care of yourself. Beth knew she was strong, and just because Daryl was there, it didn't mean she couldn't make it without him. She didn't want to, but she could. If she had to.

"I'm sorry," Olivia apologized. "I don't mean to bring down the mood. I'm glad your group made it here safely. I hope you can learn to call it home."

Beth nodded once and pressed her lips into a small grin. "Thank you."

"Feel free to look around and see if anything else catches your eye. I'll be in the armory."

This was her chance. She needed to bring up something girlish and naive about weapons.

But what could she say?

"You guys must have a lot of guns to need an armory."

Olivia frowned. "We like to have them, but we hope we won't need them."

"So they're just in there?" Beth gestured to the door. "For anyone to use?"

"Well, sort of."

Olivia unlocked the handle and opened it just enough that Beth could see a crack of light coming through a window on the other side. Beth faked a look of concern and Olivia caught it, believing in it wholeheartedly.

"Don't worry," she said. "You're still safe. If someone needs to go outside the walls, they come here to check out a gun from me. And when I'm not here, it stays locked up tight."

Beth sighed in relief. "Oh. Okay."

They both heard the other door open suddenly, and Beth saw a man named Tobin walk in from outside.

"Hello, ladies," he greeted them. He stepped past Beth and made a beeline for the room of guns. "I need to check out some rifles, Olivia. We're going to the construction site to pick up some more parts for the expansion."

"Sure thing." Olivia stepped aside and let him in, along with Abraham and another man Beth didn't know.

Beth waited until they were completely pulled into deep conversation, then she tiptoed across the room to get a better view. She saw a wall lined with automatic weapons and few smaller handguns. She saw a crate spilling over with boxes of ammunition and two small tubs of flares and smoke bombs. They were fully loaded, no doubting that. Surely they wouldn't miss one or two firearms missing from the vault, if she was really clever about it.

She decided that instead of being sneaky, she could be bold. She could casually enter the room, look out of place and start asking lots of stupid questions, and maybe they wouldn't really notice her slip something into her bag. Before she could make a decision about her next move, however, Tobin ushered her forward.

"You ain't scared of guns are ya?" he asked. "You don't gotta linger outside the door like that. You can come in."

Beth chuckled and took one step past the door. "Wow," she sighed. "I wouldn't know where to start."

Abraham gave her a look, but she purposefully avoided his eyes.

"If you ever want someone to show you how to fire one," Tobin suggested, "just let me know."

"Thanks, but I've got Daryl to show me."

The other man turned his head to look her up and down. He was tall and broad. Even standing between Abraham and Tobin, he looked like a giant. "That's right," he realized aloud. "You're the archer's wife."

Beth's throat closed involuntarily. Then she stuttered, "Umm, yes. I-I'm Beth."

"It's a pleasure, Beth." Tobin grinned and eased some of the tension. "This is my right hand man, David."

"You're married?" Olivia questioned. "Did you know each other before?"

Beth shook her head.

"Neither did me and Betsy," David said. "Now I wouldn't trade having her in my life for anything that came before the world went to hell."

"That's really sweet," Beth let out softly.

Olivia murmured a satisfied hum then led the men out of the armory with their desired weapons. Even though Abraham gave her a subtle nod, no one thought twice about leaving Beth to be the last one out. And they definitely didn't notice when she slipped three handguns and a box of ammo into the bottom of her bag. She covered the evidence with two cans of mixed vegetables and a can opener.

As Beth exited the house, she made sure to thank Olivia again for the pasta.

""⧫""

"Where the hell did you get this?" Daryl demanded, raising his voice in a way she wasn't quite used to.

Beth hadn't heard him speak to her in that tone since their shouting match outside the moonshine shack. That was before everything had happened. Before everything between them had changed. But the way he was looking at her now, one would think she'd robbed a bank. Pre-apocalypse, of course.

"I swiped it from the armory," she admitted casually. "No one noticed."

"But why?" he dared.

She shook her head, dumbfounded. "You heard Rick. I was just doing what he wanted. I'm keeping an eye on things." Daryl nearly cut in, but she added one more thing before he could. "We need guns to protect ourselves. If something happens, we'll need them."

"What do you think's gonna happen, Beth?"

"Nothing." She bit her lip and moved to stand behind the counter. She didn't do it to create a shield between them - she knew he wouldn't hurt her - but she needed the space. "You saw what Terminus was," she said, filling a ceramic bowl with water from the sink.

Daryl took note of where she'd placed herself in the room and stepped back. He sat at the kitchen table and slammed the gun forcefully down on the surface to let out some of his frustration in a way that wasn't towards her. Beth couldn't stop the reflexive flinch that resulted from the sound, despite knowing Daryl had removed the clip.

"I don't get it," he mumbled. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again, more calmly. "You're the one that told me to believe in this place. Now what? You've changed your mind?"

"No," she discouraged. "I just... " She fought back a surge of guilt. "I just wanted to do somethin'."

He got up and paced. She knew well enough by now that this was Daryl's way of rationing out his thoughts before they came spewing out across the floor in a heap of nonsense and rage. Sometimes even the patterns of his steps weren't enough to clear his head, though. So, it took lashing out and reeling himself back in before he was calm enough to state the truth.

It was getting easier for him to jump ahead to the end of that routine nowadays. Beth normally didn't let him waste time with bullshit. She called him on it, and he appreciated it. Now, however, he was _really_ mad at her. No. Not mad. He was disappointed.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she stated clearly, regaining an ounce of her nerve. "And I'm not sayin' we shouldn't believe in this place. I just don't wanna sit around anymore. I agree that maybe Rick is being a little extreme, but when he gave me this job, it made me feel good. Even if it means pretending with everyone else, at least someone knows I'm capable of more."

Daryl stared at her hard. His brows knitted together in confusion but relaxed again almost immediately after registering the look of desperation on Beth's face. He understood.

"Beth," he let out, moving forward. " _I_ know what you're capable of."

"That's different. It's you."

He scoffed. "Then what is it?"

She thought on it for a moment. In the time it took her to close her eyes and breathe, Daryl had come close enough that he was hovering over her. Not in a menacing way, but like a shadow. Like a quiet protector.

"When I was in the armory," she said, "this guy, David, assumed we were married. I didn't say anythin', because I'm tired of everyone lookin' at me like I'm a little girl." She lifted her eyes and met his. They were calm and collected. They were listening. "I don't know how old I am - I stopped marking the days after we had to leave the jail - but I know how I feel. And I know that I'm stronger than what they see on the outside."

Daryl voice broke. "Yeah. You are."

He pulled her to his chest, squeezing every last drop of doubt out of her. He threaded his fingers through her hair on either side of her face and took her in. She watched his eyes scan over her mouth and her nose. They searched her eyes and she allowed him to see her.

"I ain't mad," he admitted, clearing her conscience. "I just wish you woulda told me. If they caught you - "

"They didn't," she forced.

He chewed his lip nervously. "I guess it's alright," he noted. "You know, if you tell people we're married. Makes sense."

"That's it?" she teased.

"What? It ain't like Glenn and Maggie made some big deal about it."

Beth shrugged and pulled away nonchalantly. "You're right," she commended. She picked up the box of angel hair pasta from the counter and poured it into the bowl of water she'd already prepared. "But I at least need a ring."


	15. Part 15

They'd been comfortable in Alexandria for a month when the wolves finally came.

That's actually what they called themselves, marking it clear with W's on their foreheads and leaving a trail of carcusses ripped to shreds in their wake. Beth recognized the mess they left behind immediately - it was just like the aftermath they'd walked into in Noah's neighborhood - and the people that did that weren't people anymore. They were monsters.

That morning, Daryl left with Aaron to go on a short recruiting mission. Something in Beth's gut didn't want him to go, but she knew she had to let him. They stood on the porch for twenty minutes holding each other and saying goodbye, even though the actual words never came out. She couldn't say it - not those final parting sentiments. She would see him later. She had to believe that.

Once they arrived, it didn't take long for everything to fall into chaos. Beth had just walked over to Rick's house to pick up Judith. Carl was in the kitchen, balancing pouring milk into a bowl of cereal and propping Judith on the opposite hip. She was big now. That tiny little creature grew more and more every single day, and that above all else was what made Beth want to fight. Life was continuing forward, and she couldn't stand the thought of it stopping short. Not for anyone else that had a chance.

So, when she first saw them, her reflexes kicked in without pause. She grabbed a knife from the cutting board on the counter and rushed to lock the door. Carl's instincts weren't far behind. He knew what was happening and made sure to pull the blinds in the windows so no one could see in. Judith sensed the fear in both of them and was starting to whimper, but Carl shushed her.

"I gotta get out there," he told Beth. "You need to stay here with Judith."

"No," Beth declined, already making for the back door. "You stay. I've got this."

He gave her a look that bordered the edge of uncertainty but reeled it back.

He trusted her, just like his father.

Beth snuck out the back door, clinging to the edge of the house and keeping within the shadows. The wolves were everywhere. Weapons sliced through the air like rockets, taking limbs and lives left and right. They were frantic. Spastic even. They weren't rational or calculating about the people they killed. It was purely instinctual. She could see the glee on their faces. They actually enjoyed it, and that made Beth's stomach twist in knots. She knew she could use their animalistic ways to her advantage and catch them off guard. She needed to get to the armory, but the only way to do that was by blending in. They'd spot her immediately unless they thought she was one of them.

Cutting across the neighboring yards, she sprinted for a fence that ran along the perimeter behind Michonne's house. Most of the group had left with Rick to handle a herd of walkers that was making its way towards the town, so that left very few allies to help Beth in her defense alongside the remaining Alexandrians. Maggie was there. Tyreese and Bob. And Noah. She needed to find Noah. He was supposed to have been outside the fence with Redge learning how to further expand the walls. What if he was still out there? What if they got him first?

A man in a hooded jacket came out of the house beside her. She ducked behind the bushes and waited until he was just close enough, then she sprang like a cat. Her knife dug into his side, sinking deep into his stomach and ripping his insides as she pulled out. Before he could strike to defend himself, she slit his throat. It was easy. Much easier than she ever thought or feared it would be. He fell to the ground and she pulled him to the steps of the house, gathering his clothes to use as her disguise. She covered her face with his bandana and made sure to pull the hood of the jacket over her hair. She made the final touch by smearing a W on her forehead with his blood. No one would doubt her now.

Beth pulled out the handgun she kept hidden away in the waistband of her jeans and released the safety. Even though firing a gun didn't take as much physical strength as wielding a knife, each kill after that was a little bit harder. The rush of adrenaline in her veins wasn't wearing thin, but her mind was clearing. She hadn't thought before. The knife had done its job without her, protecting the body that held it in the time it took her brain to register what to do. She wasn't on autopilot anymore. As Beth got closer to the armory, taking out any threat that stood in her way, each kill stole a tiny bit of her soul. She felt it as it was happening. Each time her finger pulled the trigger, it blew off a chunk of her heart. But much as it hurt, she kept going. Because she had to. Because she didn't have a choice.

Maggie and Noah were running up the street when she finally got inside the armory. They didn't recognize her at first, but when she pulled the bandana away from her face, they both relaxed.

The three of them rushed inside to gather up all the guns and ammo they could carry. Olivia was quivering in the closet, clutching her hands to her chest in a stance that made it look like she'd been praying.

"Is there anyone else in here?" Beth asked her.

Olivia shook her head wildly and pressed her lips together in a tight line.

"Here," Beth said, handing her a gun. "Take this."

Olivia's eyes were wild with fear and astonishment. Beth's cover was officially blown. No going back after this. Whether Rick believed the Alexandrians had bad intentions or not, they were going to have to stand together if they wanted to fight a common enemy.

"Do we know how many are still out there?" Noah asked, snapping magazines in place one after another.

Beth tore the bandana from around her neck and tossed it to the floor. "Not many. We should be able to take the rest of them out pretty quick now that we've got weapons. They aren't using guns, so we'll have that advantage."

"Where's Judith?" Maggie questioned.

"With Carl. They're safe." She nodded firmly to Noah and her sister. "Let's finish this."

They did.

Once they were able to gather the rest of the group, it was fairly simple to disarm and kill the remaining wolves that lingered in the streets. They didn't leave any of them alive, because Beth knew they couldn't take that risk.

The damage, however, couldn't be undone. They lost so many, including Bob, and Tyreese was going to have to live without his left arm. Luckily, Rosita and Eric were able to get him to the infirmary in time. Doctor Denise would take of him, along with the countless others that suffered serious or mild injuries.

Beth thought about Carol, and how she hadn't been as lucky.

When it was all over, Beth wandered back to her house and collapsed on the front steps. She stared at her hands. They were covered with blood. It sunk deep into the lines on her skin and smeared further when she tried to wipe it away. She didn't cry anymore. She'd learned to stop letting the tears release after realizing they came too frequently, but this time she couldn't do it. They came anyway. And they came at full force.

She was still sitting there when Daryl got home.

""⧫""

"I don't understand," he let out with a shaky breath.

He was trying to scrub away what remained of the W on Beth's forehead. It came off in flakes, and she watched as the dried bits of blood fluttered carelessly to the bathroom floor.

He'd stripped her from her clothes, tossing what didn't belong to her in the trash without hesitation. The look in his eyes hadn't changed from the moment he first saw her on the steps. Panic. Deep seated and lasting.

"Who were they? How did they get in? Where did they come from?"

She couldn't answer his questions, because she didn't know. It all happened so quickly, and the only way she could go back and replay it in her mind was in small bursts, like a projector screen flickering scenes in and out. It just happened. Like everything else. No reason.

"Beth." Daryl stopped what he was doing. He took her face in his hands and bit his bottom lip. "Please talk to me."

She blinked. "They were the same ones that attacked Noah's neighborhood," she explained carefully. "Bad people." She lowered her head, and Daryl let go of his grip. "There's always bad people."

"I shouldn't have left," he told himself.

"No. You survived because you weren't here."

"I coulda helped you. You shouldn't have had to do this by yourself."

"I wasn't alone," she corrected him. "Not in the end."

"Don't matter. I don't like it." He'd been crouching in front of her, so he dropped to his knees, unable to hold the weight of himself anymore. "When I saw you on the porch all covered in blood… Beth, I couldn't breathe."

"I did what I had to do," she said, straightening her shoulders. "It's over now."

As he slouched forward, burying his face in his hands, Beth caught a glimpse of the back of his shoulder. "Daryl, why are you bleeding?"

He jerked his head up and got to his feet. "It's nothing."

She just stared at him, waiting. He caved almost immediately.

"I was going to tell you," he confessed, "but I didn't expect to come home to this."

"What happened?"

He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms. "We ran into some people on the road. They weren't friendly."

Beth let out a small chuckle. "There's always more bad people."

Daryl frowned at her but kept going. "They said they wanted everything that me and Aaron had. They were gonna take our food, our weapons, our car. Said it belonged to somebody named Negan."

"How'd you get out of it?"

He actually smiled, but it wasn't from happiness. "Turns out the rest of the group was on their way back. They showed up just in time. Rick and Abraham took em out."

"They're all dead?"

"Yeah."

"Good," she said, swallowing hard.

"This guy, though," he added. "Whoever Negan is, he's gonna be pissed when his men don't come back. We might've started something."

"We'll figure it out. We always do."

Daryl nodded, then helped her to her feet. He filled the tub with warm water and kept her company while she soaked her sore muscles. Every so often, when the water started getting cold, he turned the faucet and let fresh water raise the temperature. After an hour, her fingers and toes were fully pruned, so he dried her off and guided her to bed.

He got in beside her, tucking her body neatly under the blankets. He pressed himself close as he began methodically stroking her hair. It was nearly impossible to hold her eyes open any longer, but her mind was still swimming. She couldn't get the visual of everything she'd done out of her head.

She murmured his name and his hand stilled.

"What is it, girl?" he asked, adoringly.

"I killed people today."

Saying it out loud made it even more true, and it tasted bitter on her tongue.

He held his breath, and it was several seconds before she felt his chest move again.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"What was it like for you? The first time."

He thought on it, then said, "I can't remember."

That was the answer she'd been afraid to hear. Becoming numb to it all meant the lives she took no longer mattered, and that wasn't right. She didn't think she'd ever change how she felt about hope and good people still being out there in the world. But that was before.

"I don't wanna forget," she said.

Then she felt herself drifting into sleep.


	16. Part 16

The entire town looked at her differently now.

Daryl could see it in their subtle glances and judgmental stares. She wasn't the innocent babysitter to them anymore. She was the warrior that saved the town. And to his surprise, they weren't thankful. They were just scared.

As they probably should be.

He tried to keep things normal, but who the fuck was he kidding? Things hadn't been _normal_ in a very long time. Everything they did was out of the ordinary. They were living in someone else's house, eating someone else's food and protecting the fences of someone else's town. They were pretending. None of this belonged to them, but Beth had defended it, because she wanted it to. And so did he.

She was quiet the first day after the attack. She didn't bother going over to Rick's house to pick up Judith, so Carl stayed home instead of helping Rosita teach a group about self-defense. Rick didn't bother coming to check on her. Daryl said she needed time to herself, and Rick merely nodded. Steady. Solemn. And unconcerned.

Daryl tried to get Beth to eat, but she wasn't hungry. He wanted her to talk, but she had nothing to say. It was what she did best, and she was always trying to get him to do the same whenever he felt like shutting down, but he wasn't as good as she was about making people do things they didn't wanna do. Not as skilled at pulling words out of someone else's mouth. He couldn't get under her skin the way she did with him. Everything she said was like a safe word. He always let go. Always took off the mask and opened up. But no matter what Daryl tried to say now, Beth barely lifted the edges of her mouth into a grin. That sheepish and wise little grin that said everything and nothing at all.

She said, "I'm okay."

But she wasn't.

The second day after the attack was better. At least in comparison to the first. She spoke more, and she moved around the house doing unnecessary chores. She cleaned the counters and wiped down the windows. She rearranged the furniture in the living room and decorated the kitchen table with a vase full of pink and yellow flowers she picked from Deanna's garden.

When Daryl asked her how she was doing, she said, "I'm okay."

But she wasn't.

On the third day, Daryl was getting ready to leave on a supply run when Beth stopped him at the door. "I wanna go with you."

His first thought was immediate: absolutely not. But then he looked at her, really looked at her, and he couldn't find a single excuse to tell her no.

So he agreed.

""⧫""

They'd been driving with the windows down. Daryl had a mixed CD blaring wildly from the car speakers to help draw any straggling walkers away from town, and even though the music annoyed them both, they were too caught up enjoying the wind on their faces to care.

Daryl didn't know for sure if Beth felt the same relief that he did at being in a moving vehicle, but when he stole a glance at her in the passenger seat, blond hair blowing wildly around her porcelain face, he saw that she had her eyes closed. And she was smiling.

They passed a warehouse labeled SORGHUM, and given Eugene's specific instructions on how useful the super grain would be, they chose to stop and load up. On the way back, Daryl suggested they check out one of the abandoned gas stations. Beth held her knife tight at her side as they got out of the car. Daryl let her be, knowing she was good on her own, but he kept her in his sights. Just in case.

"Hey," he called for her attention. "Help me with this?"

He'd noticed a beat up and broken snack machine fallen on its side, and before knowing its contents, Daryl hoped there was something inside that would make her day. They could both use a bit of a pick-me-up.

Turns out it was worth the trouble. After Beth found a tire iron to break the glass, Daryl was able to reach in and pull out an entire handful of M&Ms packets. They were Beth's favorite.

As he started digging for what was left at the bottom of the machine, he felt something hit him hard and fast from behind. He fell face first onto a bed of sharp glass as the wind rushed from his lungs. Beads of blood trickled from his cheek, and after a few seconds of being disoriented, he pulled himself together and drew his gun.

Beth was already doing the same, and the two of them now had their weapons pointed at a man in a trenchcoat. He had a thick beard and long stringy hair. With his hands in the air, he opened his mouth to protest, "I was just running from the dead."

"How many?" Daryl questioned.

"At least ten. Once they get in the double digits, I start running."

Beth's eyebrow lifted slightly in a doubt. "Where?"

The man looked just past their shoulders. "You've got about eleven minutes."

Daryl didn't think he looked threatening. His beard was trimmed, and he didn't appear to have a weapon on him. So, Daryl lowered his. "My name's Daryl. This is Beth. Who're you?"

With his hands still raised innocently in the hair, palms out, the man cocked his head in amusement. "Paul Rovia. But my friends used to call me Jesus."

"How many walkers have you - "

"No." Beth cut him off before he could finish the question.

"Sorry, gotta run."

Before they could stop him, the man took off behind the gas station.

Beth scowled. "You're not seriously asking that guy the questions?" she pried. "He calls himself Jesus."

Daryl shrugged in discontent. "He didn't look like he was that bad off. He's probably from a group. After what happened..."

"That's exactly why we shouldn't trust people right now. We can't risk another attack like that."

"Beth, that's the point of me comin' out here. I'm supposed to look for people. We _need_ people."

"We _have_ people." Beth grabbed up a bag of chips and a couple soda cans from the machine and stuffed them into her pack. "Let's go. We need to bring back more than junk food."

She got back in the car and made sure to slam the door in protest. Daryl couldn't believe it. She was acting like a… well, like a teenager. She was the one that wanted him to try. She was the one that insisted he give Alexandria a chance. Now, after what happened, was Beth losing her hope in people?

He got behind the wheel and tossed a pack of M&Ms onto her lap.

"Thanks," she said her in a milder tone.

"Yeah."

He hit the gas and they drove the rest of the way home in silence.

""⧫""

Rick and Michonne were much more successful. When they arrived after their run, they had a truck full of dried goods and a stranger tied up in the back to show for it.

"What the hell happened here?" Glenn asked, taking in the unconscious man on his side.

Michonne flipped him onto his back with her boot. "He tried to trick us out of this truck. But he was too smart for his own good. Got himself knocked out."

Daryl took a closer look then stepped back. "We saw this guy, too. His name's Jesus."

" _Jesus_?" Glenn mocked.

Beth scoffed under her breath, and Daryl placed a hand on her shoulder. "He seemed alright. But if you say he tried to pull a fast one on you…"

"We brought him back so Denise could look him over," Michonne assured him. "But if he causes any trouble after that, he's gone."

Beth didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. She turned on her heel and walked briskly down the street, turning left and making for the row of houses that would lead her home. Daryl waited to see if the others needed help unloading the truck, but after insisting they could handle it all on their own, he followed her.

There were clanging noises coming from the kitchen when he walked through the door. Beth had spread out a stack of pots and pans on the counter an effort to find something hidden at the back of the cabinet. She was on her hands and knees, rummaging under the sink, so Daryl sat on the floor in front of her. He pulled his knees to his chest and waited patiently, allowing her to dig without interruption until she found whatever she was looking for. He didn't expect her hand to finally land on a bottle of whiskey.

She sighed and fell onto her backside with a plop. "Jackpot."

"How long has that been there?" he asked, more impressed than concerned at what she'd been hunting for.

"A few weeks. I swiped it from Olivia."

"You managed to take guns _and_ booze without anyone lookin'?"

A sly smile creased her lips. "I'm sneaky." She reached above her head and pulled two glasses down from the counter above them. "Wanna play _I Never_?"

"Is that gonna be our thing?"

"Stop askin' questions. You gonna play or not?"

Daryl let out a groan and leaned back on his palms. "Fine. Pour me a glass."

They spent hours on the floor swapping confessions back and forth. Daryl didn't think he had anything left to tell, but with every new admission Beth came out with he managed to find something to counter it. By the time they reached the bottom of the bottle, the setting sun cast an orange glow around the kitchen. His vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges. Whenever she moved, she seemed to sway in slow motion. Beth's words were slurred, and her hands were very interested in his body. They rested on his thigh, moved slowly down his arm, and twisted around his waist.

"I've never… been to outer space"

Her statements were becoming more and more mundane. She was naming off things most people had never done, and neither of them were drinking anymore.

"Damn," he teased. "I was an astronaut before the turn."

She released an airy giggle and climbed into his lap. They were done playing.

Her mouth traced his jawline, and Daryl could smell the whiskey on her breath. She bit the tip of his nose innocently with her teeth. The air was hot around them. They clung together in a haze of heat that came from a combination of too much alcohol and too much passion. All bottled up into two bodies, ready to release. She combed her fingers through his beard then wrapped them loosely around the back of his neck. A methodical rhythm rocked from her hips and he pressed into her, grabbing her ass with both hands. Their lips hovered lazily over one another. Parted. Breathy. He could taste how lost in the moment she was.

Beth moaned his name. "Daryl."

He was somehow coherent enough to easily remove her shirt and lift her so he could pull her jeans and underwear to the middle of her thighs. They were clumsy, but once he pulled himself free and slid into her, they fell into a smooth wave of motion. Using the edge of the counter above her to keep steady, she pulled up and sunk back down. He pushed deep into her, feeling every time her muscles clenched and released from pleasure. He needed her to move faster, but it was hard for her in that position, and they were drunk. So, he shifted forward and guided her onto her back. They spread themselves flat on the kitchen floor, and he took her.

He took her, and he gave himself away.

When they were done, Daryl fell onto his back and stared fixedly at the ceiling as it spun around him. He hadn't been this lit since before the incident with moonshine. Even then, this might have topped his wildest nights with Merle. He didn't just feel drunk. He was high on the girl lying next to him. With her baby blue eyes and that look they gave him that was sexy as hell and devastatingly adorable at the same time. That laugh. That infectious laugh that brought sunshine into a cloudy room. And her good spirit. Her unblemished good spirit that he hoped was still in tact.

Daryl took her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. "You okay?"

He heard her murmur beside him. "I'm okay."

Rolling back over to his side, he pulled her to him. Tucked her hair behind her ear. Kissed her forehead. "I know you're not."

She didn't react. Her eyes remained focused on the ceiling above them. Then they closed.

"After what happened," he said. "It's got you thinking everything's all messed up, but it's not."

"I said, I'm okay." She pushed herself onto her elbows and looked around for her clothes, then pulled on her jeans and grabbed her shirt.

"Beth?"

"Why do you keep wanting to talk about it?" she asked harshly. "I told you what happened. So just drop it, alright?"

The desperation in her face was clear. He was right. She was definitely not okay.

"Beth, no. This is obviously bothering you…"

"Dammit, Daryl. Just stop it!"

She stormed from the room, knocking over the empty bottle of whiskey in the process. It rolled across the floor and clattered against one of the legs of the kitchen table. For a minute, Daryl did nothing. His embeded instincts told him to just let her go. Let her sulk and cry and deal with it, because he was too old for this shit. Too beyond trying to help someone see reason when they only felt chaos. But then he took a breath, and he got to his feet.

Like hell he was gonna let her go.

He caught her by the wrist before she made it to the stairs. "You had your fun," he hissed.

"Get off of me!"

"Hell no! You never let me get away with this shit, so I ain't gonna let you do it neither!"

She looked stunned. Still incredibly angry, but taken aback by his stance. She flexed her fingers in his grip, and he let go. The room was unsteady. He was still too wasted to properly see straight, and the more he tried to focus on her face, the less clear it became. She was beautiful, though, no matter how blurry or skewed the image in front of him was. He knew her well enough now to see past that. And when her bottom lip began to tremble, and she collapsed onto the bottom step in tears, he was there to catch her. His arms embraced her. Pulled her close. Held her tight. She wept into his bare chest, and he let his skin soak up her tears.

"Nothing makes sense anymore," she cried. "I don't know what's right or what's wrong. What if _I_ was wrong? What if there aren't any good people left in the world. What if, after everything we're forced to do, even the ones left end up turning bad? What about _me_?"

" _You_ are _not_ a bad person," he scolded. "How dare you even consider that." He wiped the corner of her eyes with his thumb. "You're the one that made me give this place a chance. Look around you. These people aren't bad. They took us in. And you trusted them."

He felt her nod. "Yeah, I know."

"So that's what matters." Daryl lifted her head so he could see her face. Her cheeks were blotched with red and her nose was running. He chuckled and went to grab a tissue. Before he handed it to her, he asked one last time, "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she said.

And he knew she was.


	17. Part 17

Beth awoke the next morning in an extremely pleasant mood. It was dampened a little after venturing down the stairs and finding the house to be empty, but upon glancing out the window, she spotted Daryl… with a motorcycle. Without bothering to put on shoes, she dashed onto the porch to get a closer look.

"Where'd you find that?" she exclaimed.

He smirked over his shoulder at her while continuing to tighten a loose bolt. "I built it."

She skipped down the steps to join him. "Say that again?"

"I've been working on it for a while. Aaron had all the parts in his garage. Figured I knew more about bikes than he did."

"He was probably right."

Daryl gave her another sly grin along with a light kiss on the cheek. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," she faltered, twisting the edges of her T-shirt in her fingers. "I guess."

She was finding it harder and harder to sleep without dreaming. Every day brought about a new nightmare to play on repeat in her subconscious mind. First, it was the walkers. Then, it was her father's murder. Now, more frequently than anything else, she found herself dreaming of men with _W_ 's on their foreheads. She dreamt about killing.

Before Daryl could protest with an excuse for Beth to get better sleep, she backtracked to the previous subject. "Do I get to ride it?"

"The bike?"

She shrugged her shoulders playfully. "Whatever."

He chuckled and pinched lightly at her tummy, right where she was ticklish. She squirmed away from him and around the other side of the bike. Swinging her leg over, she mounted it and grabbed the handles with both hands.

"Damn girl," he sighed. "I could get used to seeing that."

"Does it run?"

"Not just yet. But it will."

"I know it will," she concurred, stroking his ego. Then, rotating around on the seat so that she was facing him, she said, "I'm glad you've got a bike again. It's like part of you was missin'."

"Me too. Feels good."

" _Sick_ ride!"

They both turned to find Noah approaching the house. He was carrying a large box full of vegetables from Maggie's garden.

Daryl gave him a solid pat on the back. "Thanks, man."

Noah admired the bike with wide eyes. "My dad had one. Always thought it was the coolest thing. He was gonna give it to me." His eyes shrank and then fell to the box in his hands. "Got some nourishment. Freshly picked and hand-delivered."

Beth removed herself from the bike and took the box. "Thanks, Noah."

"You got any donuts in there?" Daryl joked.

"If I could figure out how to grow them, we'd have them by the dozens."

Beth rolled her eyes and stepped between the two boys. Noah followed her up the steps and into the house. She and Daryl hadn't had much company. When they weren't alone, they were busy around the town. Or hanging around with Glenn and Maggie. It was nice having a guest, and she was glad the house was in order.

"I still can't get over these houses," Noah said, taking in each room as he passed through to the kitchen. "They're like mansions."

"I know," she agreed. "I almost feel guilty, but then I let it go whenever I remember how comfortable my bed is."

Noah laughed. He began helping her sort the vegetables and stuff them into baskets. After everything was put away, he pulled himself up onto the counter, dangling his legs off the edge. He whistled a little tune, then clicked his tongue. "I hear congratulations are in order."

"What do you mean?"

"You're _married_?" He shifted nervously and forced another laugh. "I mean, it's cool. I could've been a flower girl or something if I'd known, but I get it."

Beth scowled and joined him on the counter. "You're funny."

"I'm serious."

"Well, there wasn't a flower girl, or a wedding for that matter. It was…" She hesitated. "People just assumed. And we didn't disagree."

He nudged her softly. "It's nice," he said. "Besides, what does it really mean to be married nowadays anyway? Things aren't the same anymore. Pomp and circumstance shouldn't matter. Just being with someone is enough in the end."

"Yeah. I guess that's true."

He picked up a cucumber and examined it curiously. "We should make pickles."

Beth laughed. "Donuts and pickles, huh? You're worse than Maggie."

"How's that?"

"Pregnancy cravings. Although, now that I think about it, I don't know if she's had any. We haven't talked about it."

Noah pursed his lips and blew out a puff of exacerbated air. "No offense to them, but I can't imagine having the guts to do something like that."

"It's living," Beth said. "Everyone here is trying to build something."

"What about you?"

Beth's stomach sank. She and Daryl knew it wasn't the right time to make a baby, but they'd been awful careless lately. Especially the night before. They'd been drunk, and neither of them had thought to take precautions.

"Maybe," she confessed. "But not right now."

""⧫""

A few hours later, Beth ventured over to Rick's to pick up Judith. She entered the house quietly, trying her best to close the door without a sound. Knowing Rick and Carl would be asleep, she tiptoed to the stairs. Before she could ascend, she was startled by a man standing at the top of the landing. It was Jesus - the man they'd captured.

Beth drew her gun and aimed for his head. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He kept his back to her, unfazed. "I'm just waiting for Rick and his wife to get dressed," Jesus stated calmly. "You can lower your gun. They know I'm here."

She didn't lower the weapon, but she relaxed her stance. She was confused. Partially because she wasn't sure whether or not to believe his claims, and also because Rick's wife was dead. Unless, he was referring to someone else. Was Rick sleeping with someone?

Her question was immediately answered when Rick stepped out from around the corner. He was busy zipping his pants when Michonne appeared behind him.

Beth smirked.

"Beth. Hey. We… umm." Rick was fumbling for a good excuse almost as much as he was fumbling with his belt, but he didn't have time to cultivate a full sentence before Carl had heard the commotion and was coming out of his room. Rick lowered his head. "Shit."

"We should talk," Jesus said, placing the picture frame he'd been inspecting back on the wall. "We have a lot to discuss."

An hour later, elite members of the town gathered at Rick's house to hear what the man named Jesus had to say. It turned out that Jesus was from another community known as the Hilltop, and to everyone's surprise, they weren't the only other community in the area.

Jesus suggested that Rick come to meet with their leader, Gregory, and discuss trade. Knowing the food he and Michonne found wouldn't last them forever, Rick agreed.

"We ran out of ammo months ago," Jesus said, "so Gregory will have to agree. We need protection just as much as you need to feed your family."

"Protection from what?" Daryl asked.

"We can get into that later. For now, I wanna show you what else is out there. Your world's about to get a whole lot bigger."

""⧫""

They packed up the RV and traveled a day's distance to the new community. On their way, Beth took the time to watch Jesus as he conversed with Michonne and Rick in the front seats. His confidence was irritating, but she'd yet to see any obvious clues that suggested he was untrustworthy. Daryl was keeping a closer eye on Beth than he was on the new addition to their group. She knew he was only being his usual overprotective self, but admittedly even that was getting on her nerves.

She tried her best not to let it get to her, but it wasn't just Daryl. She felt like everyone was extremely cautious around her after the attack. Whether it was because they'd heard about what happened through exaggerated stories, or because Daryl told them the truth, it didn't matter. Either way, everyone kept their distance and treated her like a fragile child. Once again, she was the weak one. The unsteady one. The girl that could break at any moment. She couldn't win.

When they arrived, Beth was the last to step out of the RV and onto the stretch of muddy earth. The Hilltop was located behind a tall wooden fence, and upon approaching the gate, they were greeted by two men holding what looked like giant spears. Jesus assured them the outsiders he'd brought could be trusted, and reluctantly, they let everyone inside. There were campers lined along the perimeter that outlined several gardens. At the top of the hill was a very large and well kept house. Jesus stopped just beyond the path that led to the front door and waited for everyone to gather around.

"This is Barrington House," Jesus explained. "It was built long before the world fell apart, so we think most people came here thinking it would last a long time after. The family that owned it sold it to the state in the 1930s, and until FEMA took it over, it was used as a museum."

Daryl was mesmerized, along with everyone else, but Beth wasn't that impressed. It was just a house. Size didn't matter anymore. No matter how many bedrooms it had, that house wasn't going to protect them any more than a shack in the woods. If anything, it made the residents of the Hilltop more vulnerable. Jesus had let slip that his people needed protection, and Beth was beginning to think it was because other communities wanted what they had.

They followed Jesus through the doors and into an immense foyer with a high ceiling. Daryl awkwardly tried to kick the mud from his boots before stepping onto the hardwood, but their group had already left a trail of dirt on the carpet. An older, balding man with a neatly pressed jacket and slacks stepped out from behind a set of double doors.

"Jesus," he greeted. "You're back. And you have guests."

They were all introduced and instructed to go upstairs to clean up. The man's name was Gregory, and even though she'd only been in his presence for less than five minutes, she could already feel a ridiculous amount of arrogance wafting from the way he spoke. She wasn't the only one to pick up on it. Rick had noticed as well and was giving Glenn and Maggie a look of displeasure. Daryl caught all of this but tried to keep an optimistic expression when glancing back at Beth.

Maggie was the first to speak with Gregory. They met one and one in his office while the others waited upstairs. Rick thought it best that someone with a more even temper tried to negotiate, and Beth agreed. Their group tended to stir up trouble even at the best of times.

When she returned, they all gathered around her to hear what she had to say. Gregory had not agreed to a trade, and Jesus was actually surprised.

"Let me talk to him," he said. "He doesn't understand. I'll make him see reason."

"What is there to reason?" Rick argued. "We need food. We came all this way, and we're gonna get it."

"Rick, please. Just let me talk to him. He's just afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Daryl questioned. "You said you needed protection. Why do I get the feelin' you ain't talkin' about the walkers?"

Jesus straightened and took a deep breath. "There's a group," he explained. "They call themselves the Saviours, and they're led by a man name Negan."

"We've heard that name," Rick said. "Who is he?"

"We don't know," Jesus admitted. "We've never seen him, but we've seen groups of his men as big as twenty. They showed up shortly after our walls were built. Demanded half of everything. In return, they don't attack us."

Rick lifted an eyebrow. "What makes you think they aren't just talk?"

"They killed one of us. A sixteen year old boy. Beat him to death in front of everyone."

"So what?" Beth jumped in. She was met with incredulous stares, but she had a good point to make. "We've already taken out part of his group." She looked to Daryl. "You said you ran into them on the road. They tried to take your stuff, but you killed them."

"If Rick and Abe hadn't shown up, we might not have," Daryl countered. "We were lucky."

"It doesn't matter. We've dealt with people like Negan before. What makes him any different than the Governor or the people at Terminus?" She stepped forward and approached Jesus confidently. "If we help you, will Gregory reconsider a trade? We take out Negan and his men, and you give us food. Medicine, too."

Jesus thought on it for a second, then squared his shoulders. "I'll see what he says."

"Hold up," Daryl interjected. "Maybe we should think about this."

"No, she's right," Rick concluded. "We've been up against worse. We've never had a problem with conflict before, no reason why we can't settle this now."

Beth nodded, pleased with the decision, and took a step back. Daryl frowned and shook his head. She knew he was only worried about having to fight another enemy, but Beth was prepared. She understood what it took to make it now, and fighting was just a natural part of it. No matter how dirty their hands got, they were survivors.

""⧫""

When they got home, Daryl didn't come inside. He lingered by the door for a long while and lit a cigarette before eventually taking a walk down the road. The two of them had disagreed before, but it was like he was genuinely disappointed in her. What did he expect? They needed to make a play, and Beth had just been the one to initiate it. She'd taken on a pack of savage men at the drop of a hat, so how much harder could it be to take out another group with time and preparation on their side. They had the weapons, and they had the skills. What was stopping them?

Instead of sitting at home alone and overthinking the matter, she decided to visit Maggie. Glenn was still with Rick and Michonne helping to unpack some of the supplies they'd brought back from the Hilltop, so the sisters had the house to themselves for the time being. Maggie took out a box of cookies from the cabinet and began nibbling as they spoke.

"When did you know?" Beth asked. She took the box and grabbed a handful of cookies for herself.

"Know what?"

"When you were pregnant."

Maggie stopped chewing and stared a her younger sister curiously. "I was never sure, but it was at least a month or two after. You're not - "

"No," Beth shut down. "I mean, I doubt it. But last night, we were careless."

"Oh." Maggie closed her eyes and breathed, relieved. Then, her face contorted into wonder. "Would it be so bad?" she asked. "Have you two talked about it?"

Beth twirled one of the cookies absentmindedly on the counter. "Not really."

"Bethy," Maggie cooed. "If it does happen, it'll be okay. You know that, right?"

Beth nodded and took a bite, even though she wasn't entirely sure if she agreed. Would it be alright? If they got through this and defeated Negan and his men, would they finally be able to live their lives? Could they actually start to build something? She wanted it. She wanted it desperately, and she tried as hard as she could to cling to that hope every day. But she'd learned to always expect the unexpected. To prepare for the worst.

After everything, would all of that worry be worth it?


	18. Part 18

"Absolutely not."

Daryl didn't want her go. Despite Beth's persistent onslaught of evidence as to why it would be a good idea, he refused. He couldn't see past the image that kept replaying in his head of the possibility of Beth's brains being shot out and smeared across a wall. Anything could happen. He knew it was dangerous. It wasn't just about the walkers anymore. It was the people. The men they were up against were strangers. They were shadows in the dark, and Rick wasn't prepared. None of them were.

He should have never let her talk them into doing it in the first place.

It took several hours for him to muster up the courage and come back home, but as soon as he did, he regretted it. He knew she'd be waiting for him, and she was. She was sitting on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and a look of sheer resistance on her face. She'd probably been sitting there thinking up whatever verbal ammo she could gather the entire time he'd been gone. But as soon as he closed the door, he knew that wasn't true. There was a faint scent of coconut emitting from where she sat. He recognized that smell from the countless times he'd taken it in over dinner. She'd been to see Maggie.

"We have to do it," she stated firmly.

" _We_ ain't gotta do nothin'," he corrected. "You've done enough."

"But I'm going with you."

That's when he'd said it. He tried to say it firmly, but his voice shook. Two words: _absolutely not_. He thought it would be enough. But it wasn't.

"You can't make me sit on the sidelines," she said. "Not after everything that's happened. I'm the one that made that deal. If I don't go, what will that say?"

"It'll probably say that you had no business makin' that kinda deal in the first place. Do you even realize what you've done? You started something that didn't have to happen. We were fine."

"For how long, Daryl?" She rose to her feet. Her eyebrows knitted so tightly together in frustration that it looked like her entire face might crumble in on itself. "What we had at the jail, we're never gonna have that again. We don't get to start over anymore. We have to fight. Or we die."

Those words. They weren't hers. He'd heard them before from their fearless leader.

Daryl stared at her, and a new woman he no longer recognized stared back. "Is this because of those men? What they did - "

Beth scoffed, cutting him off from finishing his excuse. "It's because of _all_ of them. It's never going to stop, unless _we_ stop it."

""⧫""

He convinced her to keep watch with Maggie instead of busting into the compound with the others. She didn't like it, but it was better than staying behind.

It took ten minutes to sweep the building and kill most of the men in their sleep. Daryl tried to redirect his focus as he slit the first man's throat. When it was over, he'd have a cigarette. And he'd ride his bike. Only a few more senseless kills, and he could do those simple things. Go back to a life with the illusion of normalcy. But even those thoughts couldn't hide the sound of his knife sliding through thick skin and coarse muscle. Or the gush of blood that rushed down the hilt.

When it was finished, Rick gathered everyone in the courtyard. The deed was done. They didn't know which of the men had been Negan, but at that point it didn't matter. They were all dead. They were safe from whatever danger may or may not have come their way in the future.

Then, the relief was broken.

A man rushed from the doors and bolted for the trees. Daryl spotted him first and was able to tackle him to the ground. He wrestled with the straggler to keep the upper hand, but it was clear he had no intention of being apprehended. Finally, Daryl managed to knock him upside the head with the butt of his gun. The man stilled, and a radio fell from his jacket pocket onto the damp grass.

Rick picked it up, but before he could do anything with it, static erupted from the speaker. Followed by a woman's voice.

"Lower your weapon, prick."

This was it. They were screwed. This was the one thing that was guaranteed to go wrong. Something was bound to happen, and this was it. They'd been careless. They missed one measly guy, and now they were cornered.

Rick spoke into the radio. "Come on out. We can talk."

"We've got a Beth and a Maggie," the woman responded. "I reckon that's somethin' you wanna talk about."

Daryl immediately exchanged a look of panic with Glenn who'd paled as white as a sheet.

Nevermind. _This_ was it.

""⧫""

The only thing Beth could see was her feet. The group of women that corned them had tossed jackets over their heads and were now forcing them through the rough terrain of the woods. Beth stumbled over rocks and branches as she tried to find her footing, but they were shoving her so hard from behind it was hard to keep up with her own steps. She knew Maggie was beside her in the same condition. Sooner or later, these people were going to arrive at their destination, and any chance she and Maggie had to escape would dwindle down to nothing.

She had to think of a plan.

They were taken to what felt like a warehouse. The floor was slick with some sort of machine oil and caked with dried blood. Walker or human, it was impossible to tell. She was steered into a room and shoved to the floor. Then, the jacket was removed. One of the women was already binding duct tape around Maggie's wrists and ankles. She quickly finished the job and did the same for Beth. They were stuck.

Beth gave Maggie a hopeful nod. She'd been gagged before entering the building, so talking wasn't an option. Her sister's gag was stuffed so forcefully into her mouth it looked like she was about to choke. That's when Beth got an idea.

She needed to trick these women into thinking she was weaker than she was. No one ever thought Beth was strong. No one ever thought she was capable of much. And yet again, she was going to use that to her advantage.

She started drawing in deep doses of air into her lungs. Rapidly. One after the other. So quick she barely had time to release one hit of carbon dioxide before inhaling more oxygen. Her chest began to tighten, and her head felt dizzy. She was sending herself into a panic attack on purpose. She needed them to remove her gag.

Maggie fidgeted where she sat. She knew what Beth was doing, even though there was still a tiny look of real panic in her eyes. Maggie yelled for attention, but the cloth muffled most of the sound. Beth was actually starting to feel sick. She was close to passing out.

Then, a woman with bright red hair and a thin face yanked the cloth from Beth's mouth.

"You're a nervous little thing, aren't you?"

Beth focused on slowing her breathing, but it was hard to fall back into a normal rhythm after such strenuous hysteria, regardless as to whether it was real or fake. As her heart rate steadied, she allowed her head to fall back against the concrete wall.

At least she'd managed to buy some time.

""⧫""

Daryl was now far past panic. His worst fear was playing out before his eyes. He knew Beth shouldn't have come along. It was a terrible, ridiculous, _stupid_ idea. But she'd talked him into it. She always did that. He was pretty sure Beth could talk him into anything - possibly even sacrificing their first born.

 _Shit_. He couldn't think about shit like that.

Glenn was pacing back and forth in a slightly calmer state of fear. It wasn't that he was calm - he was far from it - but he held himself together better than Daryl. While Glenn paced and waited for Rick to make a plan, Daryl lashed out. Got angry. Even tried to punch Abe, who was much bigger and less tolerant of Daryl's bullshit than anyone else there.

Rick tried to make a trade. They had one of their men, after all. It was fair. Two for one wasn't a terrible deal. But the woman on the other end of the radio didn't see it that way. She said she'd think on it. Fifteen minutes had passed, and Daryl's thoughts were running rampant. What could those people possibly do to Beth in fifteen minutes? She could already be dead.

"Fuck this," Daryl let out. "I can track 'em. They ain't far."

He started towards the trees, but Rick called him back.

"We have to be smart," Rick said. "When she radios back, we'll set up a meeting point. She has to agree to the trade."

"And what if she don't? That bitch don't give a shit about him." Daryl tossed his hand in the direction of their prisoner, now slumped against one of the back tires on the RV. "He got left behind for a reason."

Glenn shook his head. "We don't know that. He could be important."

"So we're just supposed to wait and find out? Meanwhile, they could be chopping off Beth's fingers, or feeding Maggie to a bunch of walkers."

Glenn grimaced, and Rick scowled. Daryl was purposely pushing their buttons. He needed them to understand how dire the situation was. They couldn't sit around twiddling their thumbs and hoping for the best. This was Beth's life on the line. _His_ Beth. His girl.

He should have never let her come.

""⧫""

The redhead revealed her name to be Paula.

It didn't change anything. Putting a name to the face that was keeping her hostage didn't make Beth feel any sympathy towards her. Not even the admission that she liked cats or used to work as a secretary made much of a difference. Paula wasn't human anymore. Beth couldn't see her that way or else she'd lose sight of what needed to be done. She had to kill her. Beth had to kill Paula and the other two responsible for holding her prisoner. Then she and Maggie would be free. Then the job would be done.

So that's what she did.

Beth seized her moment when Paula left the room to tend to a noisy walker outside the door. It wasn't hard - she'd already loosened the tape around her wrist enough to slip easily through the tattered ends. It took less than a minute to free her feet and tend to Maggie's bonds. Then they waited. The two other women had just left to check on the lack of noise coming from the hall. When they returned, Beth knocked the shorter, older one to ground and promptly swiped her knife. She stabbed the woman in the base of the skull, just like Rick and the rest of the group did to all those men sleeping soundlessly in their beds. They'd become monsters to avoid a more malicious type of evil. But it didn't scare her.

Maggie had the other woman pinned against the wall. She was younger and stronger, so it was a fight for Maggie to keep her at bay, but as soon as Beth spotted the struggle, she ended it with a blow to the woman's head. She didn't stop. Even after her body fell limp to the floor, Beth pounded into her skull over and over with the rusted pipe clutched in her fists. Every hit cracked deeper into bone. She felt it when her eye socket caved in. It was like breaking through a sheet of glass and landing in oatmeal.

Beth got to her feet. She was covered in blood. Maggie was too, but only because it had sprayed across the room due to Beth's violent acts of self-defense. After a brief exchange of horror, they both gathered themselves and ran for the exit.

When they found Paula, Maggie took the initiative. Beth knew her sister was only saving her from having to add one more tick to her kill list, but Maggie wasn't supposed to be that person. She wasn't supposed to have to take a kill so Beth wouldn't have to. So, after Maggie shoved Paula onto an exposed pipe, tearing right through her middle and catching her like a fly in a web, Beth ended it before she could turn. It was senseless. No need for anyone to become one of those things.

"Let's go," Beth urged. "It's done."

""⧫""

Daryl was ready.

His gun was loaded and aimed, prepared to fire at first sight. Whoever stood behind that door had about three seconds to make themselves known, or his finger would pull the trigger.

As Rick slid open the door, Daryl lifted his shoulders.

Three, two, one…

He was already lowering his gun. Because it wasn't an enemy standing on the other side. It was Beth. She and Maggie were already there, not waiting to be rescued, but covered in blood, fighting their way out. Beth looked like she was on the verge of fainting, so he rushed to her and caught her under the arms.

"Hey, you good? You okay?"

She shook her head - not the response he was expecting from the Beth he'd witnessed over the past few days. "No," she said. "I'm not."

He pulled her to his chest and held her tight. "I'm never letting you outta my sight again."

She managed a small chuckle. "Never?"

"You should know the answer to that by now."


	19. Part 19

Two weeks after the siege at Negan's compound, Beth found herself struggling for fresh air.

Being taken by those women left her feeling claustrophobic, and she desperately needed to have some time to herself, so she decided to seek isolation in the woods. She'd pass the time by scavenging for food. Fresh berries and nuts. Possibly some plants they could use for medicine. She didn't know a lot, but she knew enough from what her father taught her, and she'd have to depend on her gut for the rest.

Before Eugene was able to let her out of the gate, however, she was spotted by Noah. She silently cursed herself for not being more careful. People were too concerned over her every move. It's one of the reasons why she wanted to escape alone, if only for just a little while.

"Hey!" Noah called after her. "Where you headed?"

Beth sighed in annoyance. "Out. I'll be back in an hour."

Beth planted one foot outside the gate, but the concern in Noah's voice prevented her from moving any further. "I… can't let you do that." He hesitated. "Not alone, anyway."

She turned on the spot, eyebrows raised in defiance. "Why not?"

Noah's shoulders slumped slightly. He tilted his head. "If Daryl found out I let you go out there by yourself - "

"The man's right." Eugene spoke up in agreement before Noah had a chance to finish his argument. "I've seen Daryl do some pretty gnarly things with that high-powered weapon of his. The crossbow, I mean."

Beth rolled her eyes, but Noah was nodding his head. He'd gained someone on his side. Nothing she said would convince him otherwise.

"Fine," she caved. "But you better keep up."

""⧫""

"I heard about what happened. It must have been scary."

Noah had been trying to make small talk up until this particular point, but after running out of lesser things to say, he dumped a heavy statement on her, forcing Beth to acknowledge the one thing she went into the woods to avoid.

"Yeah," she concurred. "It was."

He continued to press her. "Lucky everyone showed up when they did, huh?"

"We actually made it out before they got there," she corrected.

They paused to check behind them as a snapping twig caught their attention. It was just a single walker, at least twenty yards away, so they chose to ignore it. As they continued trekking through the forest, Beth guessed that Noah had sensed her tone. She didn't mean to come off as being rude, but he was sort of dampening her little excursion.

"I'm sorry," Noah said. "I didn't mean to bring it up. I'm sure you'd rather not talk about it."

Beth exhaled heavily in relief. "It's okay."

She attempted to divert him back to a lighter subject, but before she could speak, she was caught off guard by another noise. This was much louder than a snapping twig, and it was close. Much too close for either of their comfort.

Beth drew her knife and prepared to strike. Noah was already doing the same with his other hand resting on the handle of his gun where it sat tucked away in his belt. They waited for another sign of movement, but the woods remained quiet. Then, someone burst out from behind a tree.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me." Beth lowered her knife at the same time Daryl lowered his crossbow. They stared fixedly at one another in agitation as Noah gathered his composure.

"Shit," Noah let out. "We thought you were a walker."

Daryl ignored him and fired towards Beth. "What the hell are you doin' out here?"

"Me?" she questioned. "What about you? I thought you were with Rick."

"I thought you were with Maggie."

"Guys, it's cool," Noah mediated. "Let's maybe try and lower the volume just a bit. No need to attract anymore company."

Daryl squared his shoulders, but complied with Noah's request. In a lower register he said, "You shouldn't be sneakin' off like that without tellin' somebody."

"I wasn't sneaking off," Beth corrected. "I was just going out for some air. And Eugene saw me leave."

"You know what I mean."

"You mean, I shouldn't go anywhere without telling _you_?"

"Yeah, I do."

Beth let out a puff of hot air through her nostrils and gave Daryl the most indignant scowl she could muster, but it didn't go far. He rolled his eyes and shook off her anger as if she were a child with no sense of the world. It wasn't like Daryl to treat her like that, but after she and Maggie were taken, his hold on her had tightened to suffocating proportions. She couldn't brush her teeth without him hovering over her or watching from the bedroom door. She knew his concern came with the best intentions, but it was becoming too restricting for her to be in the same room with him. That's why she needed some air. She just needed one hour by herself in the woods, but she couldn't even have that.

"Come on," Noah coaxed her. "We should head back anyway. It's gonna be dark soon."

"No." Beth planted herself firmly in position. "Look, despite popular opinion, I am perfectly capable of taking a walk by myself in the woods. I am not a child. I have my gun, and my knife, and my brain." She focused directly on Daryl's displeased expression. "I will be fine."

He caved more easily than she expected. Daryl merely shook his head in defeat and casually gestured for her to be on her way. She waited to see if it was a test, but by the time she realized it wasn't, he was already turning his back. As he strode back towards home, he called over his shoulder for Noah to follow. "Come on, kid. She needs her space."

Noah hesitated, hovering on the edge of conjuring new words to possibly reassure her, but he couldn't speak. Instead, he followed obediently behind Daryl, leaving Beth alone in the woods.

Just like she wanted.

""⧫""

It didn't take long for Beth to see the idiocy of what she was doing.

She sat on a fallen tree trunk for about twenty minutes, staring at the foliage in front of her and rolling over all the thoughts attempting to crowd her mind, before eventually getting to her feet and making her way back to the community. She made herself sit there just long enough to prove her point. Just long enough so that she didn't look ridiculous returning home so soon after putting up such a fierce argument. She knew Daryl would be livid with her for acting out in such a way, but she had the entire trip back to prepare herself for that.

Noah had been right - it was beginning to get dark. The sun was setting just low enough behind the trees that she could no longer see her shadow casting out in front of her as she walked. And it was getting colder. The chill in the breeze was just cold enough to raise goose bumps along her arms. She was better than this. Beth didn't traipse around in the woods for no good purpose. The only reason she was still out there was to hold on to her pride. She was acting like a child - the exact perception of herself she'd been trying to crack. No matter what she did - no matter how many men she killed or how many walkers she eliminated - everyone continued to view her as something fragile. Something too young and naive to really make it without some sort of protection. Yet there she was, putting herself in danger just to prove a point.

How much more childish could she get?

Above the guilt of becoming a killer, and the shame of knowing it was the right thing to do, there was one thing gnawing at her conscience that reminded her of why she needed to be alone. She was afraid. Afraid of what she was becoming and what she might end up losing in return. Afraid of the life she would have to live and the things she'd have to do in order to stay safe. To stay content. They were never safe. Nothing they did would ever give them enough sense of security to build the lives they dreamed about. The future she and the others had been working towards was so far out of their reach Beth knew they'd never be able to grab it. They'd always be a fraction of an inch away from holding it the palm of their hands. Grazing normalcy with the tips of their fingers, only to have it slip away time and time again.

Beth used to want a child.

She used to dream about becoming a mother. Becoming a wife. Raising a family in a house with a white picket fence and a dog running around in the front yard. She imagined all of the birthdays and the holidays that would be celebrated there.

That's how unbelievably stupid she was.

""⧫""

She'd been right about Daryl's attitude upon her return. As she approached the house, she could see him pacing back and forth on the front porch, cigarette hanging limply from his lips and hands running wildly through his hair. He'd probably been doing that the entire time, waiting for her to return. Anxiously waiting to see if she'd return at all.

When he saw her, he stopped pacing. He took a long drag from the cigarette and then forcefully flicked it from his fingers. It landed in the road only a few inches from where she stood, so she took the liberty of crushing out the embers with the toe of her boot.

"You get what you needed?" he asked. His tone was harsh, as she expected it would be.

She nodded once.

They exchanged a wide range of emotions with their eyes. In that moment, they shared everything from looks of disappointment to relief. From rage to gratitude.

Then Beth opened her mouth and said, "We should talk."

""⧫""

Daryl had fallen completely silent. Beth wasn't even sure if he'd blinked in the past two minutes, but she could see his chest rising and falling very slowly - deliberately - so she at least knew he was alive.

She knew she'd probably freaked him out, so she immediately tried to recover her words. She backtracked a bit, performing a sort of reconnaissance of their situation.

"I don't know anything for sure," she said. "There's no way to know this soon, but if I am…" She trailed off, losing herself in her own thoughts. Her own concerns. "We need to be prepared."

Daryl stared at the floor. Several more seconds passed, but then he gathered enough will to speak. "You think you're pregnant."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact. A confirmation spoken aloud just to make himself understand what she'd said before.

She let the sentence linger in the air before adding her own declaration of fact. "We've been careless," she said. "We should have… _I_ should have been more careful."

"I don't get it." He spoke calmly under his breath. It was almost too quiet for her to hear.

"Get what?"

He faced her then. "You. You're pissed at me for worrying about you, and now you tell me this? You know that's just gonna make me worry even more."

"Daryl, I'm telling you because… because…"

"You don't know," he said. "You said it yourself. You don't know anything anymore."

She felt a sting of hurt in her chest. Quick and sudden, like a bolt of lightning.

Daryl saw the emotion reflected on her face and immediately righted himself. "I'm not mad," he said soothingly, reaching for her hand. He closed his eyes. "I just love you."

Beth involuntarily closed her eyes as well, attempting to fight back the tears beginning to flood her vision. "I know."

His hand lovingly cupped the side of her head and pulled her in. She fell against his shoulder and buried her cheek comfortably in the crook of his neck. As he stroked her hair, he squeezed her fingers in his.

"It'll be okay," he said. "No matter what happens, it'll be okay."

"How do you know," she whispered.

As he spoke, she felt his voice vibrate through his chest. Deep and strong. "I don't. But it wouldn't kill you to have a little faith." He was using her own words against her, because he knew it would resonate. Getting a taste of her own medicine was more effective than hearing someone else's empty reassurances. "If you want people to stop treating you like you're fragile, then you have to stop acting like you're broken."

Beth lifted her head to look at him. "Since when do you have such a way with words?"

He smiled. "Since you taught me how to use them." He kissed her softly, letting his lips remain against hers for a long and tender moment. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you, too."

They were lost in another kiss when the front door slammed open. They both jumped to their feet and prepared for the worst, but at the sight of Glenn they let out a sigh of relief. But only a second - the second before Glenn opened his mouth.

"It's Maggie."


	20. Part 20

Beth sat in the tub with her knees pulled to her chest.

The water pouring down from the shower above soaked through her clothes and deep into her skin. She was drenched from head to toe, and she was shivering. Her hair was plastered around her face in thick, clinging knots, and as she closed her eyes, allowing the sound of the falling water to drown out the other terrible noises in the world, she forced herself to cry.

She forced herself to cry so that she wouldn't have to cry anymore. She was done with it. Didn't wanna do it anymore. Didn't want to feel the emotion surging in her chest making her want to choke and sob and shake. She was over feeling helpless and lost. She was finished pretending to be tough when she knew, deep down, she was soft and scared. She cried for herself and everything others thought her to be. She cried for what she was and what she wasn't. What she couldn't let go of and what she wished she could be.

And she cried for Maggie.

Thinking about her made the tears come easier. Only a few hours before, Beth had been holding her hand. She told her sister that everything was going to be okay, even though she didn't believe it. And when the pain in Maggie's abdomen became too unbearable to endure, Denise told them that it was too late. She was going to lose the baby. It was too soon to deliver, and they didn't have the proper equipment to keep a child that premature alive in this world.

Beth cried now, because Maggie - despite the devastation - couldn't bring herself to cry then. Even after it was over, and Glenn suggested they all let her get some rest, Beth watched her sister through the crack in the door as she layed there staring at the ceiling. Eyes wide and dry. Unblinking. Emotionless.

Denise suggested it was because of shock, and that was probably true, but Beth figured it was more because Maggie had become numb. She'd used up all the emotions she had left, fighting and hoping and grieving. Beth understood.

So, as she continued to sit there under the shower, Beth cried out everything she had left so she could be like her sister. So they could be numb together.

Daryl let her do whatever she needed to for the first ten minutes or so, then he stepped in. He turned off the water and climbed in the tub behind her, pulling her back flush to his chest. He combed the saturated locks of hair away from her face and tried to warm her with his own body heat. But her shivering didn't stop. She trembled under his touch like a small, wounded animal, and he tried to keep her calm in the best way he knew how, but it could only help so much. Beth was in a place where she couldn't be consoled. Daryl knew that, but he tried anyway. He kept trying until eventually, after two hours of sobbing and quivering and soothing, she finally breathed in and relaxed.

He undressed her carefully and dried her off. He combed her hair and put her to bed. He placed her naked body under the covers and tucked her in as tightly as he could, making sure she was comfortable and warm. And as he watched her close her eyes, falling gently into a dreamless sleep, he slipped a ring onto her finger.

""⧫""

Beth was cold.

She pulled the blankets to her chin and curled into a tight ball to hold in some sort of warmth, but it gave her no relief. She was naked. Her hand fell across the dip in her waist and rested lazily on her thigh. She felt for any article of clothing, but there was nothing.

So, she opened her eyes.

When she did, the first thing she saw was a sparkle. She blinked, confused at the blinding refraction of light now shining from her left hand. She lifted it from its resting place against the pillow and stared - stared at the beautiful diamond gracing the band that now encircled her finger. It was stunning.

Dressing quickly, she ran down the stairs and found Daryl sitting purposefully at the kitchen table with a half-eaten bowl of cereal. He was startled mid-chew as Beth tossed the ring onto the surface of the table. It spun and hummed for several seconds before coming to a flat stop.

"What the hell?" Daryl addressed, mouth still full.

"Exactly my point," Beth said. "What the hell?"

Daryl smirked and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You don't like it?"

"I _do_ like it. I would have liked it better if you'd have given it to me when I was conscious."

Daryl dipped his head. It looked like he was blushing, and his attempt to hide it was failing.

"I want a do-over," Beth demanded. "Right now."

She squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest, making herself look as determined and intimidating as possible. Daryl lifted a single eyebrow in amusement, then he obliged. He got up from the table and grabbed the ring, all the while taking deliberate steps towards her. When he stopped in front of her, eyes focused and jaw set, he held out his hand in a request for hers. She gave it to him, and he placed the ring on the appropriate finger and smiled.

"There," he said. "That better?"

Beth formed a calculated scowl then let it morph into a pleased grin. "I guess that'll have to do."

"I dunno," Daryl questioned. "Doesn't feel official." He tilted his head, outwardly thinking of something that would make the moment more symbolic. Then his eyes lit up in mock clarity. He dove into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a simple silver band. He slid it onto his own finger and flexed his joints to test the fit. "Much better," he declared.

"Where'd you find them?" she asked.

"Where do you think?"

Beth's face shrank into disgust. "You stole these off of walkers?"

"Glenn did the same thing," Daryl argued, "but I didn't grab the first one a saw. I actually put some effort into it and waited until I found the perfect set."

"How long?"

Daryl creased his brow. "How long did I look?"

"Yeah."

His face relaxed. "Since the day we got here."

"Here? As in, the day we found Alexandria?"

"Yes."

"You wanted me to be your wife, even then?"

Daryl physically shushed her by placing his index finger over the pout in her lips. "Yes. Even then. Now shut up and kiss me before I change my mind."

Beth smiled and bit his finger playfully. He yanked it away in surprise, and she dove for him, wrapping her arms completely around his neck and kissing him hard. Daryl picked her up and spun her around the room, happy and go lucky and free.

""⧫""

Two weeks passed, but Maggie remained in bed.

She got up to eat and use the bathroom. Every few days she ventured out of the house and stood on the porch for a few minutes, but she always returned to bed. She didn't read or write or draw. There was nothing to pass the time. Glenn tried to keep her company, but Maggie never acknowledged him. She simply stared.

At the ceiling. At the wall.

At the door.

It was as if she was waiting for something. Waiting for someone to wake her up and tell her it had all been a dream. Beth wished she could do that for her sister, but it was pointless. Maggie needed a lie, and she couldn't bring herself to do anything but provide her sister with the utmost truth.

Beth needed someone to lie to her, too. She needed someone to tell her that if she had a baby when Maggie couldn't, her sister wouldn't hate her. But that was only if the baby survived. Who was she to think it was possible for anyone to bring new life into such a corrupted and dying world? Just because Judith made it out of her mother's womb alive didn't mean the same miracle would happen again. Chances were that the people Beth was surrounded by in that moment were the last of their kind. They would all eventually die out and the human race would become extinct. No future. No building towards anything new. Just death.

But what about faith?

Somehow Daryl still had it. He'd stolen it from her, but he had it nonetheless. Beth almost felt resentful about it. How had he managed to cling onto something he never believed in the first place? She was the one that forced him to have hope - to trust that there was something better for all of them if they just kept fighting - but where was that hope now? What were they fighting for? The best days were ones when Beth never had to pick up a weapon, but those were rare, and they weren't worth hoping for. It was better to accept the reality that surrounded them. It was better to live in the moment, rather than waste their days hoping and praying for something that was no longer possible.

So, she needed to know.

Beth needed to know for sure whether or not there was another human growing inside her. She couldn't spend one more second trying to make daily decisions based on whether or not she could or couldn't be pregnant. And if she was? Well, that was a decision for another day.

A selected group was packing for a trip to the Hilltop. They needed to restock on medicine and food, so Rick had agreed to trade more of their weapons in exchange. Daryl wasn't going. He had volunteered to stay back and rotate watch with Abraham and Sasha. It was the perfect chance for Beth to get the answer to her question first before Daryl could persuade her into making any rash decisions. The doctor at the Hilltop was an obstetrician. He'd given Maggie a check-up on their first visit and even offered a sonogram. The picture still sat in a frame on the mantel in their house. Glenn had tried to take it down several times, but he could never bring himself to do it. Maggie never acknowledged it.

She wasn't sure if it was too early, but Beth desperately wanted a sonogram. She had to know if there was another heart beating inside her, depending on her for life. It took some serious calculations, but she deduced that it had been six weeks since she and Daryl's drunken night, and it had been well over a month since her last period. Those conclusions alone were enough to make her stomach turn.

Beth placed her hand gently over her abdomen as she watched Rick and Glenn load one of the trucks with guns and ammo. Michonne was planning to join them, but she stood back, involved in a deep conversation with Carl who was holding Judith on his hip. Michonne caught Beth's eye for a millisecond, and Beth immediately retracted her hand. The odd action made Michonne tilt her head in curiousity, but she went back to her conversation without question. Beth sighed.

"Mrs. Dixon?"

Beth jolted in place then turned to see Jessie's youngest son, Sam, standing behind her. He was holding an empty tupperware container tightly in his tiny hands and staring up at her with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Hey, Sam. How are you?"

He shrugged. "My mom said the lady that makes the cookies is your sister. Is that true?"

"Yes," Beth agreed. "Her name is Maggie. And you can call me Beth." She dropped to a squatting position and gestured to the container. "Did you want her to make you some more cookies?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, unfortunately Maggie is sick right now. But if you'd like, I can make some. They might not be as good as hers, but I can try. Would you wanna help me?"

"Okay! Can we do it today?"

Beth bit her bottom lip and glanced longingly at the truck now packed and ready to leave. She desperately wanted to go, but she could wait. It wouldn't be the last trip to the Hilltop, after all.

"Sure," she said. "Come on."

""⧫""

When Daryl's shift as lookout ended, he returned to his house to find Beth covered in flour accompanied by a very small, very loud human.

They were laughing. Somehow a war had broken out in the kitchen, and Daryl had to duck to avoid a flying grenade of cookie dough. Beth reared back to launch another one but stopped when she saw him standing in the archway with a look of horror on his face.

"Daryl," she let out with a giggle, lowering her hand. "We're making cookies."

"I think you're doing it wrong," he mocked.

She glanced down at the mess and laughed. "Oh, right. We were waiting for them to finish baking, so we started a cookie dough fight."

Daryl couldn't help but smile. She looked adorable all covered in white patches of dust and clumps of yellow goo. Her hair was pulled up into a tight ball on the top of her head and it made her look like an angel with a halo - a very dirty angel, but an angel nonetheless.

"This is Sam," Beth introduced.

Daryl dropped his gear on the table and took off his jacket. "Hey, Sam."

"Hi, Mr. Dixon," Sam greeted cheerfully. "Do you wanna try one of our cookies?"

"Definitely not."

Sam frowned, but Beth immediately performed damage control. "He's joking, Sam. He's going to love our cookies." She wiped a clump of dough from his tiny cheek. "There's still ten more minutes on the timer, so why don't you run home and clean up. I'll come find you when the cookies are done."

Sam nodded excitedly in agreement and dashed from the kitchen. Daryl barely caught a glance of his wispy blond hair flying out the front door before the kid was gone.

He turned to Beth and found that she wasn't smiling anymore. "What?"

Beth scoffed. " _What?_ What do you mean, _what?_ You hurt his feelings." She wasn't angry, but her voice was meant to show her disappointment. "Why would you do that?"

"I told the truth," he said with chagrin. "I don't like cookies."

Beth's jaw dropped in mock surprise. "Who doesn't like cookies? Are you even human?" She propped two hands defiantly on either side of her hips. "Did I marry a robot?"

"Yes. Probably. You want a divorce?"

Part of him was being earnest just to see what she would say. One of his biggest fears was that one day she would toss him aside. She'd wake up after years of walking through a dream only to realize that her life wasn't what she expected. Being with him wasn't what she needed. It didn't make her happy.

But then she smiled.

That's all it took was a simple smile.

She gave him a flirtatious wink. "Never."

Daryl kissed her gently on the forehead and came away with smears of white flour on his nose. They both laughed, and she helped him wipe it clean.

Beth's tone then became somber. "Daryl, I need to know if I'm pregnant," she said. "I can't keep wondering."

He'd been thinking about it all day. He'd been thinking about it constantly, ever since she dropped the news that she possibly might be carrying his child. Daryl didn't think it would be that shocking, seeing as it wasn't a definitely yes or no type of bomb she was launching at him, but somehow the not knowing made it that much harder to swallow. He wasn't worried. Actually, that was a lie - he was terrified - but he wasn't worried about losing the baby, or even losing her. That should have been his number one concern, but it wasn't. He could be a father. Any day now, Beth could look at him with her innocent baby blue eyes and tell him that he was going to be a father. A someone else's dad. He would be responsible for raising a child the right way without screwing it up. He didn't know how to do that, and even though that scared the shit out of him, he kept his calm.

"Okay," he agreed, nodding once and cupping her cheek. "When the others get back, we'll go to the Hilltop. Then we'll know."

She breathed in deep and quoted his own words back to herself. "Then we'll know."


	21. Part 21

_**8 Weeks**_

Beth felt something calloused and warm brush her cheek. She stirred, her eyes fluttering against the early morning sun streaming in through their bedroom window. It was Daryl's fingers that had woken her, and she immediately nuzzled into them upon that realization.

He stroked the long, tangled locks of her hair that fell across her shoulders. She liked the length, but it was growing tiresome to manage. Sure, it was easy to braid out of the way or pull it back in a simple ponytail, but sometimes she wished she had the nerve to chop it all off like Maggie. Her sister's bob was stylish and easy, but Beth doubted she could pull it off.

Daryl continued to run his fingers through the strands that had become knotted from sleep. He worked each knot free and massaged her scalp. The sensation was enough to send her back to sleep, but she forced her eyes to open. He was watching her closely, lying on his side and propped up on one elbow to hover just above her head. She reached to kiss him and he met her halfway, pressing his lips tenderly against hers.

"Morning, beautiful." He kissed her once more, then lifted himself to a sitting position. "Do you have to watch Judith today?"

Beth stretched and yawned dramatically. "Nope. Michonne said she'd take her."

"Are you on watch?"

"Not till tonight."

Daryl smiled and patted her leg under the covers. "Me too."

"Really?" Beth sat up. "Does that mean I get you all to myself today?"

He answered by grabbing a handful of her hip and motioning her onto her back. He kissed her hard and pressed his body into hers. Purposefully, he moved his thigh between her legs. Beth instantly felt heat pooling in the pit of her stomach.

"I'll take that as a yes," she teased, arching her back to gain some sort of friction.

Daryl nibbled playfully at the her neck. "You've got me as long as you want."

She let out an involuntary gasp as he ran a thumb over her pert nipple. She'd gotten comfortable sleeping in just an oversized T-shirt and panties, and Daryl had gotten comfortable with how little got in the way of him being able to touch her the way he wanted. He grabbed the back of her neck tenderly and exposed her throat. This made it easier for his mouth to do its work. Beth bit her lip and panted for breath. He kissed his way down her chest, pausing at her stomach and softening his lips. He was gentler there, compared to the rest of her body. Because this part of her was sacred.

This part of her held their baby.

"Daryl…"

She could feel him growing harder against her stomach, so she pulled off his boxers. He helped her remove them completely, then he slid her panties down her thighs as she lifted her T-shirt over her head. Beth took a moment to absorb the feeling of his chest against hers. She could feel the faint beat of his heart pounding under warm skin, and it made her feel safe. She was in the presence of a strong, beautiful man… and she was safe.

"Is it okay?" he asked. "With the baby?"

Beth nodded. "Maybe just… not so rough."

He slid into her without pretense. There was no need for foreplay. No reason to waste time beating around the bush when the one thing they both wanted was there right, naked and beautiful and completely theirs to have. Daryl moved with delicate grace. He was careful while still keeping enough pressure to hit the right spot. Beth clung to him, clawing her fingers down his back and gripping his arms to hold herself steady. They rocked into one another. Breathing heavily. Sweating and writhing and devouring. Loving.

 _ **12 Weeks**_

"What about Sophia?" Beth suggested. "Or Carol?"

Daryl shook his head. "I don't want our child to be born with something hanging over them like that. No bad memories." He poured juice into her glass and joined her at the table. "We should pick something completely new."

"Okay," she thought aloud, "what about Cassiopeia?"

She was joking, and he knew that, but Daryl's eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead in dismay. "Hell no."

"It's new," she rationed, still teasing. "We don't know anyone that's died named Cassiopeia."

"Oh, okay. Well, in that case, what about Orion's Belt?"

Beth swooned. "Oh my god. Orion." She clutched her chest. "That's so cute."

"Dammit, Beth."

"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. But seriously… we need to come up with an option for both. Whether it's a boy or a girl."

Daryl slid the sonogram they'd received from the Hilltop across the table and picked it up. He stared fixedly at the grey smudgy lines and shadows that made up the tiny human they'd created. Together. "I wish we knew what it was now," he admitted.

"We will soon. Harlan said he's been able to see the gender on ultrasounds at 16 weeks before. That's only a month away." Beth sipped quietly on her juice, then said, "What about something gender neutral? Like Taylor."

Daryl cocked his head and pursed his lips. "Not terrible."

"Jordan? Micah?"

"Do you have a book of baby names stashed somewhere, or are you pulling these out of your ass?"

"My ass - which you love, by the way."

He smirked and humbly agreed.

They ate breakfast and enjoyed one another's company as the sun filled the room with bright light and warmth. When Beth was finished, she stood up and gathered their dishes. She washed their plates and cups methodically in the sink with soapy water and hummed cheerfully. It was a good day. And when Daryl approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her stomach and kissing her on the back of her head, she closed her eyes and took a moment to revel in the goodness that surrounded her. They were happy. They were starting their family in a house that felt like home, and there was nothing to fear. Except Negan.

The situation with the group they now referred to as the Saviors was still an impending issue - one they weren't sure how to approach from any angle. It'd been building for weeks, ever since the attack at the compound, but it didn't feel finished. At least, not to Beth. While everyone else settled back into their routines and moved on, scrubbing the blood off their hands and erasing the images of sleeping dead men from their minds, Beth continued waiting for the other shoe to drop. They had no way of knowing whether or not Negan was one of the men in that building, and if he wasn't, his desire for revenge would be imminent.

"I think it's going to be a girl," Daryl spoke quietly in her ear.

Beth smiled and shook off her worry. "You do?"

"Yeah. I have a feeling."

"What kind of feeling?"

He squeezed her softly. "A good one."

 _ **18 Weeks**_

Beth entered her sister's house with precaution.

As of late, Maggie had returned to her old self, or at least… closer than she'd been to it before. She went back to volunteering on the wall and going on supply runs. Her conversations with people weren't short and clipped, but actually thoughtful and open. She wasn't closed off from the world anymore. She wasn't buried in a hole of loss. The feeling was still there - Beth knew it would probably always linger somewhere in the distance - but it no longer consumed her. Maggie had forced herself to get up and fight against it. Losing her child was not going to be the end of her world, no matter how much it felt that way most of the time.

Beth had been putting off telling Maggie about her own pregnancy for weeks. She was beginning to show, and pretty soon it would be hard to conceal it from the rest of the community. She and Daryl had agreed to keep the news to themselves as long of possible, just to be safe. They didn't want to risk letting everyone get excited about something that might not last. Beth reminded herself every day that anything could happen. Any number of things could go wrong, and she made herself think about that on purpose. Not to douse her hope, but to keep reality in check. She couldn't stand the idea of being crushed like her sister, and neither could Daryl. They made a pact to keep their fingers silently crossed until Beth was far enough along to show. That's when they'd tell the others. But she made Daryl promise that he'd let her tell Maggie first.

She knocked lightly on the wall outside the kitchen to announce herself, and Maggie turned to greet her. Her sister was going through a newly delivered box of supplies, unloading everything into its proper place as she hummed cheerfully.

"Hey, Bethy," she said. "Wanna help?"

Beth nodded and began pulling out boxes of rice. She carried them to the cupboard and stacked them neatly in a row. Her loose-fitting sweater rose up to expose her stomach as she reached for the top shelf, and she consciously stopped to pull it back down. Beth held one of the boxes in her hand and picked at a dented edge.

"Maggie, I have to tell you something."

Maggie stopped what she was doing and stared blankly at the kitchen table. "I know," she said.

"You do?"

"Yeah." Maggie looked up and let out a relieved smile. "I've known for a while, actually."

"How?"

"Just by the way you two've been acting. I don't think anyone else picked up on it, but Glenn and I could tell."

Beth slumped her shoulders sheepishly. "I wanted to tell you, but I felt like I was rubbing your face in it."

"No," Maggie declined. "Don't think that." She moved to her and took her hands. "I'm happy for you. I promise." Maggie hugged her tight, then pulled back. "Everything's okay, right? You've been to the Hilltop? Did Harlan give you an ultrasound?"

"Yeah, he did." Beth pulled out a folded black and white photo from her back pocket and handed it over. "It's a girl."

Maggie smoothed out the creases of the photo and looked at it fondly, then she scowled at an afterthought. "Beth, why'd you fold it up like that? You should put it somewhere."

"I did," she argued. "I kept the first one and put it in a frame. It's beside our bed."

"Oh."

"Listen," Beth started, "we're going to tell the others tonight at the town meeting, but I wanted to have a name before then. Can you help?"

Maggie nodded gratefully. "Of course. What were you thinkin'?"

"Well, Daryl likes the name Abigail, but I still really like Ruth."

"Use them both," Maggie suggested. "Abigail Ruth Dixon."

"Dixon Greene," Beth corrected.

"Good call."

Beth thought on it, rolling the name around in her head to test the sound. She spoke it aloud. "Abigail Ruth. Abigail Ruth." She beamed and clutched her protruding stomach. "Abby."

Maggie tested it herself. "Abby. I like it."

"Me too."

 _ **22 Weeks**_

The town had been quiet for too long.

Beth stood at the window and looked out at the dark streets of Alexandria waiting for something to happen. She waited for any sign of a disturbance, but everything remained still. Abby was keeping her awake due to a midnight aerobics session in her stomach. She felt the continuous kicks and turns as she tossed in bed for hours until, eventually, she gave up on sleep and went downstairs.

Beth's schedule was completely flipped around. Carrying Abby made her tired during the day, and even after doing a minimal amount of chores, she found herself taking naps on the couch until Daryl got home. This didn't help her onset of insomnia. The moment Beth was finally able to turn her brain off for the day, Abby would move and force her to get up.

She learned that walking helped calm both her and the baby. She paced silently around the living room, but after a few laps she found herself standing at the window. The sense that something was looming still hadn't left her. There were days when she considered that Negan really was dead, and those men in that compound were the last. But that thought was too good to be true. She knew better, for there's always more.

The next day, her intuition finally proved to be right.

Daryl left that morning to escort Rosita and Denise on a run for medicine. Denise knew of an apothecary not far from town that had yet to be scavenged. They figured most people would have been deterred by the name, but she remembered passing the building when she first arrived at Alexandria. There were treasures inside that couldn't be wasted, especially now with Beth's delivery growing closer and closer every week. They needed to be prepared for the possibility of a C-section, and Daryl was damned if he allowed a repeat of what happened to Lori. When they got back, however, Denise was not with them. Rosita and Daryl were joined by Abraham, and together the three of them hauled Eugene's injured body into the infirmary. He'd been shot, and when Rick asked what happened, the look on Daryl's face was enough to confirm that Denise was gone.

Beth hovered along the wall and watched everyone work to stop the bleeding in Eugene's abdomen. All she could hear was the sound of her own heavy breathing in her ears.

This was it.

The other shoe had finally dropped.


	22. Part 22

_23 Weeks_

Beth gave her new body a full inspection as she stood naked in front of the bedroom mirror.

Curves had been revealed in strange places that she wasn't used to, and it wasn't just around her stomach. Her breasts were swollen and tender, creating the illusion that they were fuller. And maybe they were. But her thighs were a different story. She actually had a backside - which was saying something - and her hips created the hourglass shape she'd been envious of in other girls for her entire life. Beth took the time to admire the slopes and dips of her new skin. Daryl had spent plenty of time admiring her, so it was only fair that she got to explore herself in the same way.

As sexy as she felt, she also felt huge. Like a beached whale. She was tired and bloated and irritated almost all of the time, but Daryl had made her days slightly easier to tolerate. At about six months pregnant, her cravings and consistency to feel uncomfortable ran like clockwork. Daryl made sure to supply her with whatever she wanted, treating her like an absolute queen and even going as far as to sneak extra chocolates for her from under Olivia's nose. Even though Beth had changed her mind by the time he'd returned with it, she still appreciated the sentiment. It was the thought that counted.

Feeding her wasn't the only thing Daryl did to ensure Beth's happiness. He massaged her back and feet, helped her paint her toenails with a bottle of red polish she'd been sharing with Maggie, and wouldn't allow her to carry anything more than five pounds. He also kept secrets - that part Beth wasn't so fond of. She knew it was done with the best intentions, but he wasn't great at it, and she usually ended up hearing the news from Noah anyway. The latest was that Eugene was still in the infirmary, recovering from a gunshot wound received during an ambush from Negan's men. She'd witnessed the aftermath, and the look of shock on Rick's face still haunted her. Alexandria was no longer a secret to the enemy. The town was in jeopardy, and it wasn't unexpected. Her own people had slaughtered men in their sleep - no wonder Negan was pissed. Beth was surprised he sent such a small group to attack in the woods, but she was thankful at the same time. Daryl had come back to her, alive and unhurt. That was what mattered, and that was all she could think about now that Abby was growing bigger every day.

She was startled by a whistle, and she looked up to see Daryl hovering in the doorway. Beth smirked, refusing to cover herself. To hell with modesty. She confidently walked towards her husband and reached for his hand. He took it willingly and spun her with a subtle twirl. It was magic - those simple, fleeting moments of peace and happiness was what kept them going, whenever they appeared. Daryl touched the palm of his hand to her stomach, shaping the swell of the home that held their little girl.

"Has she kicked?" he asked, pausing to feel for movement.

"Not much today." Then, she felt a quick jolt. Daryl smiled. "Nevermind. She must've been waiting for you."

"That's right," he sang confidently. "Daddy's girl."

For a solid second, Beth was overcome with joy, but it quickly faded after seeing the deep set lines around Daryl's eyes. He hadn't been sleeping. What happened to Denise had been haunting him for days, and his neglect to talk about it had only made the stress of it worse.

"Hey," she whispered, beckoning him to look at her directly. He did, matching his eyes with hers in that way that made warm chills slither down her spine. "You okay?"

He continued to stare. Not completely expressionless, but with just enough blankness that Beth had to strain to read the emotion in his eyes. He was panicking. Just slightly.

"Yeah. I'm good." Daryl swallowed a lump in his throat and kissed her on the cheek. "I gotta go out."

"This late?"

"Yeah, I gotta help Rick with something outside the wall. Might take a while, so don't wait up."

She cocked her head, waiting for a better explanation, but it didn't come. "Sure. Be careful."

"Always am."

""⧫""

Noah shared a house with Tara and Denise, but with Tara on a run and Denise gone, he was left alone. The house was like all the others save for the living room being converted into an infirmary. Beth walked in without knocking, stepping past the beds and various medical utensils to follow a light coming from around the corner. She followed it down a hallway, past empty walls with no note of memory or familiarity. This house was a resting place, not a home. She could only imagine what it would be now that Denise was gone.

As she turned the corner, Beth clutched her stomach tightly. She'd been seeing the doctor at the Hilltop for months because of his accessibility to the proper equipment and his background as an obstetrician, but she'd taken comfort in knowing that Denise was at least experienced enough to handle something going wrong at home. Now that comfort had turned into fear, and it lingered in the back of her mind like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. She couldn't peel away the possibility of having a complication miles away from anyone that could truly help. As her due date got closer, she and Daryl had flirted with the idea of staying at the Hilltop until she delivered, but she didn't want to be away from Maggie. Or the rest of her family for that matter. Every day, she prayed for the next twenty-four hours to be smooth and worry-free. So far, things had worked out in her favor.

It'd been a week since Denise was killed, and Beth had yet to hear the full story of the attack. Why did it happen? Was it a random act of violence, or was it retaliation from Negan's men? Why Denise? Did they target her to make a statement, or was it something bigger? And why was Daryl haunted by it? What happened to cause his conscience to tie up so tightly within her death that it created shadows in his eyes?

Noah wasn't surprised by her knock, but his curiosity of her presence was evident. He stood to greet her, gave her a hug and a warm smile, then ushered her to sit down on the couch.

"Everything okay?" he asked first and foremost.

Beth nodded. "I'm fine." She purposefully noted her own state of well-being versus Daryl's, knowing that it would give away her intentions. Instead, after returning Noah's welcoming smile with her own, she asked a question. "Have you seen Rick?"

"Yeah. I was just over at their place talking to Carl. They were finishing up dinner. Why?"

"Did he mentioned going out for a run later?"

"No," Noah said, shaking his head bemusedly. "They seemed pretty tucked in for the night." He leaned forward slightly. "Beth, what's going on?"

She felt her eyes glazing over with apprehension. She could feel a cold sweat forming on the back of her neck, and her hands were swollen. Something wasn't right, and she needed to get to the bottom of it before something terrible happened.

"Daryl lied to me," she said. "He told me he was going with Rick outside the wall."

Noah fumbled for an excuse. "M-maybe they are. Maybe Rick just didn't want anyone to know."

Beth shook her head firmly. "No. He lied. Daryl's the one that doesn't want anyone to know what he's doing." She took a deep breath and swallowed, gaining her confidence. "Tell me what happened with Denise," she demanded, meeting Noah's eyes directly.

Noah's face contorted into discontent. "I wasn't there. I don't know."

"Yes you do," she corrected. "Rosita would have told you. I've seen you together. It's not a secret."

"How did you - ?"

"I think I'm the only one that knows," she cut him off, extinguishing his panic. Then, she reigned in the seriousness of her tone. "Noah, please just tell me. My husband lied so he could go off without anyone finding him. Tell me so I can know whether or not I need to start preparing to raise this baby on my own."

The realization of Beth's severity hit Noah hard. He sat up straighter, cleared his throat and prepared to explain. Beth prepared herself as well, trying not to expect the worst.

"A while back, right after our people first ran into Negan's men on the road, Daryl came across a guy named Dwight," he began. "He and his wife were running from some group. They thought Daryl was with them, so they took him."

Beth's heart stopped. She clutched the armrest of the couch and held on until the pounding in her ears stopped.

"When they found out who he was, they let him go. Daryl was gonna bring them back here, but they were scared. They ended up taking his crossbow."

She hadn't even known it was missing. How had she not noticed that he wasn't carrying it anymore? Had she been so preoccupied with other things that something so pivotal to him had gone unaddressed by anyone?

"He never saw 'em again," Noah continued. "Until last week. Dwight was with the group in the woods. Rosita seems to think that Dwight was aiming for Daryl and hit Denise instead."

"And now Daryl's gone looking for revenge," Beth stated, finishing Noah's story.

Noah closed his eyes, silently confirming that her assumption was probably right.

Beth stood up. "I have to go."

"Wait!" Noah caught her by the arm and forced her to turn around. "You can't go after him. I'm not gonna let you go out there. I might have been suckered into it before, but not now. Not like this." He glanced quickly at her protruding stomach then back at her face.

"I won't," he promised. "But Rick will."

Noah let go and his eyes nearly exploded from his sockets in disbelief. "You can't tell _Rick_. He'll go ballistic!"

"Exactly. Someone has to stop Daryl from doing something he'll regret, or worse… getting himself killed. Either way, Rick is the one to do it."

Noah let out a hiss of profanity and turned on the spot. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit." He clutched his hands into fists at his sides and let out a puff of violent air before eventually deciding to take action. "Fine. Let's go."

""⧫""

Rick was furious, as both Beth and Noah expected he would be. What was frustrating, however, was that he'd yet to do anything about it. He was pacing the room back and forth like a child, fuming over an undeserved punishment. Michonne tried to suggest a plan of action, but Rick couldn't formulate a strategy. No one could. It was dark - for one thing - and no one knew where to even start searching. They couldn't well enough track the guy, because the one good tracker they had was otherwise occupied. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and the only option they had was to wait until morning.

That didn't settle well with Beth. She started pacing in a manner of her own accord, circling her living room like the passenger of a carousel until she literally started feeling sick. She threw up in the trashcan and collapsed onto the floor with cold sweat clinging to her face and neck. She was alone, and it felt much bigger than the mere absence of Daryl in the house.

""⧫""

The sun rose several hours later, and it was by far the longest night of Beth's existence. Rick, Glenn, and Michonne set off first thing in one of the vans, but before they could get past the gate, Rosita hopped in, claiming she knew where Daryl would be headed.

Beth stood just inside the wall and watched as the four of them drove away. She could see Glenn's reflection in the driver's side mirror. It didn't do much to comfort her; his face was long and seemed to be preparing for the worst. She tried not to believe in it, but a part of her had been doing that all along.

Daryl wasn't selfish. He wasn't doing it for him, or even for anyone else. He was doing it for Denise, and that was the single best quality about him. It also brought him the most grief. Daryl felt responsible, and Beth knew him well enough now to understand why he couldn't sit around and forget. He had to take action - physically put a stop to the source of the pain before it caused anymore damage. She hated it and she loved it, so her heart was torn.

She went back to the house and sat on the front step. It was early enough that the air was still moist and the ground was bitter cold. Fog lingered over the houses across the street, latching to the lake in the center of town. Her jacket wasn't enough to fight against the current temperature, but she didn't care. She tucked her hands under her arms, hugging herself and her baby to keep warm, and she waited. She would wait as long as it took.

Abby kicked lightly, and Beth felt her squirm into a new position.

"Don't worry, baby," she whispered. "Daddy's coming home."


	23. Part 23

Beth snuck into her sister's bed sometime around mid-morning. It was too cold to continue waiting outside, and she was tired. She didn't want to sleep alone, and she was willing to bet that Maggie felt the same way, so she opted that keeping one another company was the better choice.

Maggie was awake when Beth lifted the covers to slide into bed. She immediately rolled over to face her little sister and began stroking the locks of blond baby curls around her face, pushing them away from Beth's forehead. Beth closed her eyes and relaxed against Maggie's touch. It was reassuring to have someone other than Daryl touch her in such a way - to be loved on so many different levels. She and Maggie were never close when they were younger, but like most relationships in the apocalypse, they were forced together. They bonded over their blood and their will to survive. Now, Beth couldn't imagine a world without her sister in it.

She wanted Abby to have her aunt.

"They aren't back yet?" Maggie whispered in the dark.

Beth watched her mouth move in the shadows. "No. Not yet."

Maggie took her sister's hand. "We don't get to get upset," she said.

"We've all got jobs to do," Beth replied, then added for safe measure, "They'll be back soon."

""⧫""

There were so many bodies; he couldn't tell if they were humans or walkers. But he walked among them. He blended in and still managed to set himself apart. His feet dragged and the world blurred around him as he was pushed forward by the men that guided him down the street. It was dark, but the sky was filtered with purple hues that looked like bruises. The world was beaten just like him, and it was trying desperately to heal.

When they approached the gate, he could just make out the shadows of his family on the other side. They had no clue what was waiting for them, and he wanted desperately to warn them, but his mouth was sealed shut. He couldn't find the words or overcome the pain in his jaw. Dwight had done a good job of roughing him up just enough to remain lucid but still in a great deal of pain. Daryl was slipping between the blurred edges of his peripheral vision and the vibrant colors in the sky. He knew Negan was hovering just behind his left shoulder, but didn't have to nerve or the energy to look at him.

It was all too much, and soon, this hell would enter his home. They were marching into a sacred place - the place where his wife and unborn daughter rested safely behind walls that were supposed to protect them from this kind of evil. But nothing could stop the devil from slipping through the cracks when he had someone they all loved held hostage. Daryl had lost track of Michonne and Rosita, but Rick and Glenn were bound in the back of one of the trucks that followed the army slowly along the road. They all had someone beyond that gate that would suffer for them - that would sacrifice themselves or anyone else to make sure they were safe - and Negan was counting on exactly that. He was going to terrify the people of Alexandria into submission, but how far was he willing to go to prove his authority?

""⧫""

Noah and Maggie were on their way to take the next shift at the gate, and Beth found herself following along, hoping she'd see something that would let her know Daryl was out there somewhere. However, when the three of them approached the front of town, there was a massive surprise waiting for them.

Outside the wall, there were too many people - most of which Beth did not recognize. She found her footing and stumbled to the gate. Her eyes scanned across blank eyes and furious scowls until she found a face that looked familiar. It was Michonne's. Her hands were tied together in front of her with rope, and her hair had come undone from its usual half-knot. She looked tired.

After finding Michonne in the jumble, she was able to spot Rosita. Her position wasn't any better than Michonne's, despite the lack of rope. Her hands might have been free, but it didn't look like there was enough energy left in her tiny frame to even attempt an escape. Her hair was down as well. It clung around in face in sweaty clumps and covered her eyes. Beth could just make out the beginnings of a bruise around her upper lip.

Beth's heart knocked against her chest. Where were Rick and Glenn?

And did they find Daryl?

A tall man with broad shoulders and a competent smirk knocked haphazardly on the gate with a baseball bat. It was wrapped in what looked like a string of barbed wire, and it was stained with blood.

Eugene and Spencer, Deanna's youngest son, were standing guard. They exchanged worried looks, unwilling to open the gate for such an intimidating stranger, but before they could voice their concerns, Rick stepped out from behind the man.

With a grim expression, he said three words. "Open the gate."

""⧫""

They were on their knees.

While the rest of the town was fast asleep inside their homes, the ten unlucky Alexandrians who'd found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time fell to the ground in defeat. Negan's men split into groups up and down the streets to stand watch outside each of the houses, ensuring no one would interrupt whatever was about to happen. Noah, Maggie, Beth, Eugene, and Spencer were forced down first. After Negan's group filed in one by one, the others joined them. Glenn, Rick, Michonne, and Rosita were already roughed around the edges. They'd had a tough night, and it didn't look like they were off the hook just yet. After waiting with bated breath, the final cluster of men shuffled past the gate, and Beth saw that Daryl was among them.

He was bleeding from his right shoulder, and his arm was scabbed from wrist to elbow as if something had dragged him carelessly across the asphalt. When he spotted Beth on her hands and knees, he hurdled forward, causing the man to his left to force him into a choke hold. Beth yelped and bit her tongue as they forced him into line. Daryl dropped to his knees next to Glenn and let out a rough growl, but it didn't do any good. Every single one of them had been backed against a wall, and there was no escape.

They'd made their bed, and now Negan was going to make them kneel in it.

"Looks like we've got a good selection here, boys." Negan twirled the bat around proudly, marching to and fro in front of everyone on the ground. "Now, tell me, which one of you pricks is the leader?"

A leaner man with a handlebar mustache nodded towards Rick. "That one."

Negan leaned in close, inspecting the pinch of determination in Rick jaw. His face was set on defiance, but Beth could see his hands shaking discretely at his sides - something Negan had not noticed.

"I've gotta say, Rick… there's been a lot of back and forth on both our parts lately. When I sent men to kill your men for killing my men, you killed more of my men. That's just not cool." Negan smirked. Stroked at his chin with a stiff thumb and index finger. "We need to settle this. Here and now. I think it's only fair that I beat the shit out of one of your people to prove a point. I'm only asking for one, and I'd say that's being pretty reasonable."

Rick forced himself to look directly at the man in front of him. He kept a straight face. Never wavering from disregard. Never giving the impression that he planned to back down.

Negan stood up. He began pacing again, clicking his tongue and clutching the bat like an extension of himself. "This is going to be hard," he said, more to himself than his audience. "I simply can't decide who gets the honor."

Beth caught a glimpse of Daryl shifting slightly from the corner of her eye. She felt Abby kick involuntarily, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't help but clutch at her stomach. Negan didn't notice, because his attention was focused on the opposite end of the line. In that moment, even though she was momentarily relieved not to have called attention to herself, the act sparked an idea. Beth waited until Negan's attention was averted back to the group as a whole, then she made her move.

She lurched forward, grabbing her abdomen purposefully this time and creating a look of excruciating pain on her face. Negan stopped in the middle of another monologue. She could feel his eyes on her, drilling holes into the top of her head that created a pounding sensation at her temples. She could feel the others casually glancing as well. And she could feel Daryl.

Hell - she could practically feel his heart pumping out of his chest with dread.

Negan tilted his head in amusement. She'd peaked his interest. This was going to be fun for him. She was well aware that he'd probably use her current state to seize a moment of free heckling, but whatever the outcome, it had created a distraction.

"Woah now, sweetheart. You're in quite the delicate state." He looked around at his men for confirmation, but they were taken aback by his sudden consideration. "Will someone get this woman a chair, or something. Jesus. Have we lost our chivalry? Simon, my man. Find this beauty a more comfortable seating arrangement."

The man with the handlebar mustache disappeared behind the closest house then reappeared holding one of Deanna's decorative lawn chairs. He yanked Beth to her feet a bit rougher than necessary and planted the chair just under her behind. She plopped down, keeping a firm hold around her torso and bending forward to create the illusion of continued pain.

"Who's the father?" Negan probed, noting the size of her stomach clearly. He glanced down the line. "Come on. Be a man."

Beth swallowed a lump in her throat. What if her brilliant plan was backfiring?

It took allowing several seconds and a thick curtain of awkward silence to pass before Daryl found his nerve. He lifted his head and looked straight into Negan's eyes. Negan merely glared, waiting for Daryl to make a move.

"Well… Go over there and help your woman," he demanded. "You're embarrassing yourself."

Daryl stood up on shaky legs. He shuffled timidly in front of their oppressor then bent down beside Beth. He took her hand, but she kept her eyes down. If she looked at him, she might lose her nerve.

Negan twirled his bat again. "You cavemen got a doctor around here?"

"No," Rick answered quickly. Negan had finally struck a nerve.

" _No?_ " Negan quoted incredulously. "All these people, and not one of you has any medical experience?"

Rick squared his shoulders. "We had a doctor, but she was killed." His eyes fell on Dwight, and Negan's attention followed.

Negan cackled. "Well, well, well. Ain't that a shitty conundrum." He succumbed to a fit of laughter before pointing to another one of his men. "George… take this lovely couple into one of the houses for inspection. Don't want anything slippin' out while I'm trying to make my point." George began ushering Beth and Daryl to Deanna's, and Negan added, "Don't worry. George nearly finished his internship before the world went to shit."

They stumbled into the house with George close behind. He already had a wicked grin plastered across his face, as if he was planning to enjoy every second of this. Daryl could sense his eagerness and was purposefully placing himself between Beth and the possible threat. What he wasn't expecting was for Beth to step out from behind him the second George's back was turned.

She'd drawn a knife that was hidden in her boot, and with the force of a tidal wave, she drove it into the side of George's throat. Blood poured down his front and covered her hand. He fell against the door, sliding down its surface in a trail of bright red until he collapsed onto the floor. Beth fell with him and made sure not to pull the knife out until it was twisted deep and purposefully into his jugular vein.

Daryl was frozen to the spot in shock. "What the fuck?"

"What?" Beth wiped her forehead with the back of her non-bloodsoaked hand.

He looked like he'd just witnessed a murder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I was faking." She ducked past the window and peered behind the curtain. There was one man standing guard between the neighboring houses. It wasn't likely he'd heard a disturbance, so as long as he was clueless, they had time to form a plan. "Do you have any weapons on you?"

Daryl pulled a handgun from the back of his pants. Thank God Negan wasn't smart enough to search them before making them kneel. He might have been an asshole, but his cockiness was proving to be a weakness. Beth took the gun and checked the clip. Five bullets, plus one in the chamber. If they took out Negan first, his men would surely open fire on everyone in his defense, so they had to start by taking out his soldiers, working their way to the top of the totem pole.

"You got a plan?" Daryl asked, taking back the gun and snapping it out of the safety position.

"I think so," Beth suggested, "but first we need more guns."


	24. Part 24

They were only able to take out six more of Negan's men before they were spotted.

The man named Simon was smart. He'd been watching when George led Beth and Daryl away from the group, not doubting the possibility of a slip. They didn't give themselves away immediately, though. Beth waited until the proper moment, taking the time to actually listen to what Negan had to say. He wanted half of everything: food, supplies, clothes. Anything and everything that he deemed fit to his liking. They would check in every other week to pick up whatever they had to offer, and if it wasn't enough, someone would die.

Someone had to die today. It was part of the plan. Negan had to make his point and make sure they all understood the situation, right off the barbed wire bat.

But not before someone took a stand.

The man keeping watch between the two houses was the easiest. Daryl was able to approach him from behind and slit his throat without making a sound. Unfortunately, catching two in a row off their guard was as lucky as they were going to get. The next two were harder, for they saw them coming. Beth had to duck behind the lattice fencing that surrounded the vegetable garden to avoid a stray bullet. Albeit, the close encounter sent Daryl into a fit of rage, allowing him the nerve to snatch the rifle right out of another man's hand and bash him square in the left eye. He staggered backwards from the blow, giving Daryl a clear shot to pull the trigger.

There was enough gunfire echoing between the houses to catch the attention of anyone, alive or dead, a mile away. Their cover was blown, so taking out the enemy incognito didn't matter anymore. Daryl tossed Beth the handgun, and she promptly released several rounds into two more men.

Six down. Dozens to go.

Then, Beth spotted Jessie dashing down the street with a handful of automatic weapons. When she got close enough, she hurriedly made to shove one into Beth's hands. "We've got the armory locked down!" she bellowed. "Take this!"

Beth could have kissed her.

"No," Daryl dismissed, instinctively grabbing the weapon from Beth's reach. "You've done enough. We need to get you out of here."

"What? No. I can help." Beth reached for the gun again, but Daryl was already strapping it over his shoulder. He then reloaded the handgun that had also previously been in her possession.

"You ain't talkin' me out of it this time, Beth," Daryl assured. "It's not just your life on the line anymore. It's Abby's, too."

That point struck a chord. She had to protect their child at all costs - that was key. So, she nodded in agreement. Jessie was already on board as well. She began guiding her backwards, away from the ensuing chaos, but Beth hesitated. She couldn't separate herself from Daryl.

Sensing her panic, Daryl gave her a quick kiss or the forehead.

"Go to the Hilltop," he said. "No matter what happens here, I'll meet you there."

Beth nodded one final acknowledgement then allowed Jessie to drag her away. They ran for the closest car - one of the ones they kept outside the wall near the back of town in case of emergencies. Beth and Jessie had to squeeze through a loose panel to get outside, but once they cleared the perimeter, they were safe. Most of Negan's army had stationed themselves at the front gate, save for the ones scattered through town, so they were able to start the vehicle and drive away without a hiccup.

"What do we do?" Jessie asked, finally showing signs of fear in her now trembling voice.

Beth closed her eyes. She didn't want to see Alexandria growing smaller in the rearview mirror, so she counted to thirty in the quiet of her mind, allowing enough time for the sight of it to disappear. Jessie asked again, and Beth had to consciously make an effort to respond.

"We warn the Hilltop," she said. "Jesus will get help. Then we come back here and finish it."

"But…it's miles away," Jessie let out in an exasperated breath. "What if we don't make it in time?"

"We will," Beth stated firmly. "We have to."

""⧫""

They had Noah.

Daryl couldn't see past the crease in the kid's brow as Negan kept a tight grip around the collar of his shirt. The others were down, too - most of the group having been relieved of their weapons, and the few that weren't… held at gunpoint. Negan stretched his free arm out in an open gesture of peace.

"Let's all just calm down before things get ugly," he sing-songed, overtly cheerful. "I'm a patient man, but you people are testing my limits, for fuck sake."

He enunciated every word, drawing out the theatrics of the moment with suspense and terror. He was still acting sly while covertly being absolutely terrifying. This man was virtually off his rocker and was capable of just about anything.

Noah choked, and Daryl had to take a step away. He couldn't watch what was about to happen.

"This is unacceptable," Negan continued. "I'm afraid to report that after I beat this fucker's head in, I'm gonna have to take one of you with me. Again, nothing personal, but I warned you. Any outbursts, and I will shut that shit down. No exceptions. I get it - you thought you'd test me. I'd probably do the same thing. But, now you know better." He cleared his throat and tossed Noah haphazardly to the ground. "Now, let's do this."

As the bat came down, Rosita let out a screech of terror. Any noise from the others was drowned out by the sound of Negan's bat making contact with Noah's brain - the _splat_ and the _rip_ as the barbed wire tore away at flesh and cracked skull. Daryl flinched with every hit. His heart broke for the life that Noah would never get to live. It broke thinking of Beth, knowing she'd be absolutely devastated. Her best friend was dying senselessly at the hands of a psychopath, and there was nothing Daryl could do about it.

""⧫""

"He's only got about thirty men with him," Beth explained to Jesus as they were greeted hesitantly at the Hilltop entrance. She spoke hastily as they walked side by side, Jessie a few steps behind. "We could easily double that if we had your help."

"And what is it you want us to help you do?" he asked.

Beth stared blankly into Jesus's piercing blue eyes. "Kill them. End this."

"No offense, but I thought you were doing that for us." Beth scowled and he cleared his throat, backtracking to a better rebuttal. "Look, _we_ wouldn't be helpful to you. We don't have bullets, remember? That's why we needed _you_."

"So what're you saying? That's it? We do nothing?"

"No," Jesus disagreed. "That's not what I'm saying at all."

"Then, what?"

He pursed his lips and dug his heels into the dirt before releasing a heavy breath. "I think it's time I introduce you to Ezekiel."

""⧫""

He was taken to a van and pushed through the open doors at the back.

Daryl fell face first onto the cold metal flooring and tasted the decay of all previous inhabitants as dirt particles floated through his nostrils and into the back of his throat. He didn't know where they were taking him, but he could guess that it was somewhere important - probably to their base. Negan's Saviours were well taken care of, so wherever it was, Daryl was sure that he wouldn't be. They were taking him as a prisoner - Negan as much as spelled it out for everyone himself. Because of their attempt at retaliation. Because of the six dead men. Daryl took the blame for that, and he was fine with it.

Beth had gotten away.

No matter what happened to him now, he could rest easy knowing that she was safe.

""⧫""

Beth was standing no more than ten feet away from a tiger.

A real… living… breathing… tiger.

And she wasn't scared. She was more… confused. And concerned. Definitely concerned. The man named Ezekiel fancied himself as a king, and next to his throne - yes, a literally throne - sat a three-hundred pound tiger. Every other minute, it'd lift itself onto its paws and pace in a circle, then settle back down. Beth felt Jessie's muscles clench next to her every time this happened.

"Well?" King Ezekiel drew out his former question again. "What say you? What is your impression of the Kingdom thus far?"

Beth fought a smirk. "It's great. Positively _magical_."

Jessie nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Excellent." Ezekiel's smile stretched wide across his face, matching the vast reach of his arms as he gestured their welcome. "Now, Jesus tells me you're in a bit of a predicament," he began. "The Hilltop is a trusted ally of the Kingdom, and Jesus is a trusted friend of mine, so if he brings you to me, I feel obligated to assist in whatever way I can." He tilted a full head of graying dreads that adorned him like a crown and waited for one of the girls to further elaborate their situation.

To Beth's surprise, it was Jessie that spoke up first.

"Please," she faltered, "your majesty. We've fallen under the thumb of a group that calls themselves the Saviours. They're led by a man named Negan. He - "

Ezekiel held up a firm hand to silence her in place. "No need to explain, my dear. I'm quite familiar with the man you speak of."

"So you made a deal with him, too?" Beth assumed.

"No," Ezekiel denied. "I wasn't interested in what he had to offer." He looked to his companion. "And neither was Shiva."

Beth was amused, but she shook her head. "Wait," she started. "If the Hilltop is one of your allies, why haven't you helped them?"

"We have," he stated firmly. "Anything that Negan takes, we reimburse. It was Gregory that chose against taking violent action."

"He's never been one for confrontation," Jesus added slyly.

"And now?" Beth questioned, looking from one man to the other.

"Things have escalated to a scale that I can no longer ignore," Ezekiel said simply. "I, and the rest of my warriors, are at your service Mrs. Dixon."

Beth let out a deep, relieving sigh, and at this, the air in the room instantly lightened.

Ezekiel then reached into a basket of brightly colored fruits and retrieved a pomegranate, extending it as an offering.

"Now that we've settled the important matters," he said, "please, help yourself."


	25. Part 25

That evening, just before preparing to journey back to the Hilltop, Beth had her first contraction.

It was too soon for Abby to be coming, but she remembered hearing about Braxton Hicks when her aunt Patricia was pregnant. It was false labor - nothing to be concerned about - but it hurt like hell, and it was just enough to freak everyone into a sense of panic. They halted everything. Told Beth she needed to rest. Taking the trip back to Hilltop so soon was out of the question for them, but to her… that notion was unacceptable.

"Daryl doesn't know I'm here," she pleaded. "We're supposed to meet at the Hilltop. He said no matter what happens in Alexandria, he'd meet me there."

"I'll go," Jesus suggested. He gently placed a reassuring palm against the side of her head and pressed his lips into a tight line. "I'll go to Alexandria, suss out the state of things… and I'll find Daryl. I'll bring him here. I promise."

""⧫""

A day later, Jesus returned. But he was accompanied by someone she hadn't expected.

Beth looked at Rick with a hopeful expression, waiting with bated breath for him to tell her that Daryl was just outside the door. That he was in the other room, talking with someone else, but he'd be there in a minute. She just had to wait. She desperately wanted Rick to tell her all she had to do was wait. But he didn't.

That's not what he had to say at all.

Daryl was alive, as far as they knew, but he'd been taken.

Negan had taken him, right after killing Noah.

Beth collapsed into Rick's chest and cried. He pulled her close. Awkwardly at first. Then, after relaxing into the disappointment of it all, he held her tight. Kissed the top of her head like she was an innocent young girl again - the girl he'd first met at her family's farm.

"We're gonna get him back," he whispered, brushing calloused fingers through the bushy mane of her ponytail. She hadn't even had the energy to twist her usual single braid into it that morning. It took too much effort, and she was tired.

She found the motivation to lift her head, and she looked at him. Looked right into those crystal clear blue eyes that nearly matched hers and said, "We have to fight." She squared her shoulders. "We have to win."

""⧫""

 _26 Weeks_

Between Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom... they had the numbers.

With all three communities working together as one, they nearly tripled the size of Negan's Saviours. It would work. There was no way it couldn't. All they had to do was surround the enemy, and surrender would be the only option. Negan wouldn't see it coming. He was too confident for that. Too smug and unaware of the people that scurried so feverishly beneath him to please and satisfy every command. Every want and need. He'd never expect them to band together. Up until now, fear had frozen his followers in place. But his slaves weren't afraid anymore. They were very, very pissed off.

Most days, Beth paced back and forth in the room she'd been given at Ezekiel's Kingdom. It was perfectly fine. There was a warm bed, electricity, food and water, and plenty of sources of entertainment. They had movie night once a week, and the kids often stopped by to hear stories, because she'd gotten good at reading aloud. She liked voicing all the different characters just like her daddy used to when she was younger. Plus, it was good practice. She secretly hoped Abby would be as easy to please.

After getting word to the other communities about the situation, Maggie had decided to come and stay with Beth while the others continued planning their attack. Beth insisted that it wasn't necessary - Jessie was there, and the girl had become a great support system so far - but Maggie disagreed. She thought some space from Alexandria was for the best, after everything that happened. Things were hard after losing the baby, and Glenn had suggested - out of nothing but love - that Maggie take some time to herself for awhile. Beth knew it was only temporary, but it hurt to see them separated like that. So far, all of the hardship the group had been through only brought them closer. But this was different. Beth couldn't imagine the heartache Maggie and Glenn were continuing to face every day after such a loss, but she didn't let herself try. She didn't want to think about that when it came to Abby. She had faith. Everything was going to be okay.

Several weeks passed before Rick finally felt confident enough to make a move. Jesus and a handful of other scouts from Hilltop had been keeping an eye on the Sanctuary where Daryl was being held. They tracked the Saviours every move until they had a dependable schedule. This included the weekly trips to every community to pick up supplies. Everyone had gotten really good at pretending, but Beth could tell their unease in the Saviours presence wasn't always an act. What once had been hopeless fear had now turned into anxious trepidation. The question lingered in everyone's minds:

 _What if this doesn't work?_

 _What if we fail?_

Yet again, Beth had faith. She clung to it like a lifeline. Fought against the currents of doubt in a sea of inevitable disappointment. She wouldn't sink. She wouldn't let her worry pull her under. Soon enough, they would make their first strike. Daryl would be rescued, and everyone else would come home safe. She had faith in it, and she would not let it waver.

The plan was to surround the Sanctuary after nightfall, much like they'd done to the single compound. The only problem was that this building was a well oiled machine. It was bigger, and it housed more soldiers that switched shifts like clockwork. It was a wrench in the gears on both sides. Because there was always someone on guard, this provided a very narrow opportunity for one of Rick's men to slip inside and cause the distraction they'd planned. On the other hand, because the shifts were so precise, they knew exactly what time and how long they had to do it. They were about six minutes away from the first switch, and once that happened, Heath had exactly thirty seconds to duck behind the gate and slip between the shadows without either of the guards taking notice. Beth sat in on several meetings discussing this very action. It was the first act of many that would take place throughout the night, and if just one of them didn't go as planned, the entire strategy would be tossed to the wind.

Rick went over every detail, over and over, until finally, there was nothing left to do but take action. They all knew the plan of attack backwards and forwards, but memorizing it would only get them so far. They had to actually do it. They had to try, anyway.

Beth wished she could do more. She was now six months pregnant, and it had been three weeks since she'd set eyes on her husband. She needed to participate somehow - she needed to feel like she was doing something to help - but no one would let her. They barely let her feed herself or go to the bathroom alone anymore, much less pick up a gun. She wouldn't let them take her knife - she kept that in its sheath at her hip at all times, knowing that there would inevitably come a time when she would need to use it. They couldn't ignore her determination to at least be able to defend herself from walkers, so she'd won that battle. It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless.

They were well into winter, and the struggle to keep warm was fierce. Maggie kept the wood-burning furnace going in the common room at all times, despite some of the locals' insistence to save wood.

"Her baby has toes, you know?" Maggie hissed. "Do you want them to fall off before she's born?"

Beth giggled and wrapped a thick blanket around her own toes. The thick fleece plus the wool socks Rick had scavenged for her were enough to hold in heat, but she let Maggie fuss, knowing nothing she could say would change her sister's mind.

Maggie joined her on the couch, shifting Beth's feet to her lap. "Are you comfortable?" she asked.

Beth nodded and turned to her side. "I'm fine," she said. She propped her elbow on the arm of the couch and rested her head in her hand. "Are you?"

Maggie smirked. "Never been more comfy."

It was almost believable, though she might have been physically comfortable at the time. But Beth knew better. She'd never seen Maggie this rattled. Between the aftermath of her miscarriage, the separation from Glenn, and the impending war that was facing them all, Beth was surprised Maggie could get dressed in the mornings. Now she was taking care of her little sister on top of it all. Beth knew Maggie's undivided attention to her was mostly a distraction, but she appreciated it all the same. It came from a good place, and if it helped ease her mind, that was just an added bonus.

"Are you goin' with them?" Beths asked.

Maggie glanced at her quickly, perplexed. "No. Why would I?"

"Because you should. They need all the help they can get."

" _You_ need me more."

"Maggie, I'm fine. I swear it."

"Don't do that," she scolded, shaking her head.

"I _promise_ ," Beth rephrased.

Maggie frowned. "You don't know that. Anything could happen. Today you might be okay, but tomorrow…" She broke up and looked away, clearing her throat. "Anything could happen," she said again.

Beth took her hand and held it between hers. "I'm sorry about what happened, and I know you're afraid it's going to happen to me too, but you don't have to be. Worrying doesn't do anybody any good."

"Aren't you scared?" Maggie questioned genuinely.

"Yeah," Beth admitted, "but that ain't gonna stop me." She sat up and curled herself into Maggie's side. She placed the hand she was holding across her belly and waited. Right on cue, Abby kicked, and Beth felt Maggie smile against her. "She needs me to be brave," Beth said. "For her. And I need you to be brave for me."

Maggie nodded and cuddled against Beth's shoulder. "You know I'm supposed to be the wise older sister, right?" she said.

"Yeah," Beth commended. "But only sometimes."

""⧫""

Three days later, Rick showed up at the Kingdom flanked by Glenn and Abraham, all three men looking battered and exhausted. Rick's left eye was purple and nearly swollen shut, and it came with gnarly gash against the accompanying cheek. Glenn looked okay, but he was walking with a limp, so Beth assumed there was leg injury she couldn't see. Abraham, despite the bandage wrapped around his torso, walked tall past the doors of the theater and into the presence of Ezekiel. Beth and Maggie sat on stage in chairs to his right, watching and waiting to hear news from their people, good or bad. At the first sight of Glenn, Maggie made to get to her feet, but stopped herself short.

"What message have you prepared for me, my comrades?" Ezekiel bellowed, his voice echoing around the nearly empty auditorium. "Tell me, for I cannot fathom further anticipation."

Rick breathed deep and lifted his head to face the king. "The first wave was a success," he said. "Most of the sanctuary fell, and we killed them all. No prisoners, just as we discussed."

Beth noticed the awkward stance of Glenn's posture. He didn't like it, and neither did she, but they both knew it was what needed to be done.

"And Negan?" Ezekiel bated.

"Fled," Abraham answered. "All according to plan."

"So, we proceed to phase two, do we not?" Ezekiel assumed. All three men nodded. "Good!" He clapped his hands merrily. "Were my men of great assistance to you? I must admit, they've been well-trained."

"Yes," Rick agreed. "Everyone did their part. Thank you," he hesitated, then added, "sir."

"Of course, of course. The pleasure is mine. We should rejoice, Rick. This is a time in which the future is being shaped for our benefit. It's a new world, and together, we will surely prosper."

Rick tipped his head foreword in respect, as if meaning to tip his sheriff's hat out of old habit. Beth smiled. You can take the man out of Georgia, but you can't take Georgia out of the man.

He then looked right at her. She thought for a moment that he'd somehow read her thoughts, and she flushed with embarrassment. But his eyes were serious.

"Daryl?" she insisted.

Rick's chest lifted with pride - a stark comparison to the submissive lieutenant previously reporting to his commander. Glenn's contagious grin had already given away what he was about to say, but still, the next three words that fell from Rick's mouth shook her.

"We got him."


	26. Part 26

He woke up to the sound of wind chimes.

The clinging together of glass pierced his eardrums like needles, for he was unused to any sound at all. He'd spent three weeks in that cell surrounded by darkness and quiet. They'd starved him, humiliated him, and treated him like an animal. Now he was lying in a warm bed surrounded by fucking wind chimes. If this was their next idea of torture, it just might work.

Instead of finding Dwight or one of Negan's other lackeys waiting outside the door, Daryl spotted a short, elderly looking woman. She wore wire-rimmed spectacles at the edge of her nose and had stark white hair pinned back in delicate curls. She looked like Mrs. Claus, and for a moment, he thought he was dreaming. But she was real. He could smell the scent of yeast wafting from her as she carried a tray of bread. She'd probably baked it herself, and his mouth began watering at the thought of how it might taste. She placed the tray down next to his bed and gave him a ginger smile.

"There's peanut butter and jelly to go along with it when you're ready," she said. "Protein, carbs and sugar. Just what you need to get your strength."

Daryl grabbed a chunk from the loaf and shoved it into his mouth without a second thought. Crumbs spilled across the covers beneath him, but he didn't bother brushing them away. Doing so would take away from his concentration, and at that moment he needed to give that bread his unmitigated attention. It tasted just as good as his tastebuds had anticipated - so good he nearly choked himself at the size of the bites he was forcing into his mouth. The woman handed him a glass of water, and he seized it, gulping down every drop.

"You've been deprived, my boy," she suggested, "but try not to overdo it just yet." She chuckled and took the now empty glass from his hands.

"Where am I?" he demanded.

She tilted her head adoringly. "You're at the Hilltop. You're safe."

"My… my wife," Daryl muttered. He swallowed the remainder of bread in his throat. "Beth. Where is she?"

"The pretty blonde? Tried to convince me she was pregnant?"

He nodded vigorously.

"Yes, she was here. She arrived yesterday. She's already come to see you twice. I'll make sure she knows you're awake."

With that statement, the woman fluttered from the room. Daryl didn't fully understand. If Beth had only just arrived at the Hilltop, where had she been since escaping Alexandria with Jessie? Before he could think on it too hard, he was overwhelmed with relief at the sight of his wife rushing through the door.

Beth rushed to him, slamming into his chest so hard he nearly lost his breath. "Careful," he huffed. "Don't squash our girl."

She tried to laugh, but she was crying too hard to let any other emotion slip through. "You're alive," she let out. "I knew you were. I just _knew_ it."

He clung to her. It was the sweetest release he'd felt in years - that feeling of safety and the ability to protect all at once. He couldn't stand the thought of being separated from Beth ever again. Sure, he'd said it before, but this time it was different. It wasn't just about Beth. His daughter needed him. And as he held his girls tightly in his arms, he swore to himself that he'd always be there for the two of them. No matter what, he'd never purposely put himself into danger, because the thought of what could happen otherwise was more terrifying than any walker or human threat he'd ever faced.

"I ain't fightin' anymore," he swore aloud, holding her back just enough to look into her angelic face. "I'm done."

Her lips parted slightly in the anticipation of forming a question, but then she thought better of it, and her mouth closed. She nodded curtly. "Okay."

""⧫""

 _34 Weeks_

Phase two of the plan involved tracking Negan. It was likely that after the first wave of attacks, he'd flee with a handful of his most trusted soldiers, and they'd been betting on it. Sure enough, that was exactly what Negan did just after the second building blew.

It turned out that Jessie was kind of a genius - nearing Eugene's standards if that said anything. She'd used her skills with metal to partner with the Hilltop's blacksmith, and together they made an endless supply of weapons. They melted down anything that wasn't useful and turned it into swords, axes, and every kind of knife. She'd even made tiny pellets to use as shrapnel in several homemade bombs that she and Eugene designed together. Once they had the time, they even figured they could make bullets. The possibilities were endless, and so far their efforts had turned out in their favor.

They'd scavenged the area tediously looking for Negan and his men, knowing that they wouldn't get far without a vehicle… and Rick made sure to eliminate their chances of finding one as best he could. It took two months, but the day finally came when Negan found himself cornered. Within the time it took to find him, the Kingdom's army was dispatched to dismantle and destroy every outpost that connected the Saviors to one another. There was no where left for them to run or hide. Negan surrendered while his remaining followers were gunned down. They managed to save at least two dozen of the women and children that had been living amongst them, most of which admitting they hadn't had any other choice but to submit to Negan's lifestyle. There were a couple of men that deemed themselves worthy as well - Beth witnessed one of the exchanges between a man named Joseph and Ezekiel's lieutenant, Richard - and it was clear that not everyone living under Negan's thumb agreed with having to kneel.

By the time Daryl had fully regained his strength, Beth was weeks away from giving birth. Despite what she felt capable of physically, everyone at the Hilltop had formed an unspoken agreement to keep her confined to her trailer. Bed rest was suggested by the doctor so that her water wouldn't break any earlier than necessary. He wanted to make sure the baby had every chance at being delivered naturally and not too soon. Even though it was frustrating, Beth couldn't disagree with his intentions. They came from a good place, and she respected his concern.

Daryl did everything he could to keep her company, including reducing himself to play several rounds of various card games every night before bed. They talked about their plan to be the perfect parents for Abby and how very unlikely that was to actually happen. They discussed the future of Alexandria and the other communities, what their roles could be, and how great they could make their new world… for their kids, mostly. Beth knew she wanted to eventually have more, and she wanted Glenn and Maggie to try to have another baby as well. She fantasized about how Judith and Abby would probably become best friends since they would be close in age and how happy they would all be just living their lives. Like it used to be. Summer picnics and holidays. They were going to start a calendar the second Abby was born, that way they'd know her exact birthday, and they could celebrate it properly.

"Everything's going to be different now," Beth said, propping herself up on the pillows Daryl had been kind enough to bring her. She relaxed into them and closed her eyes. "Negan is the last monster."

"There's always more bad people," Daryl corrected, but Beth shook her head.

"No," she denied, eyes still closed. "This is it. I can feel it."

"How?"

"I don't know. I didn't understand it at first, because I haven't felt it in so long. Since..." Her voice shook, "...since I was at the farm, before my mother died." She opened her eyes and met his gaze. "I think I feel peaceful. I feel… settled."

Daryl dropped his eyes and his head followed. He rested his forehead on Beth's thigh and breathed deep. "I wanna feel that so bad," he said, his voice slightly muffled.

"You will. Just give it time." She stroked her fingers through his hair and felt him smile against her, then she purposefully lifted his chin. "Hey, let's play a game or something'," she suggested, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Our game?" he implied. "Or Checkers?"

She scoffed in surprise. "Do we _have_ Checkers?"

"No. But we could make our own."

"Let's just stick to the drinks. What do we have? Water?"

He got to his feet and checked the cabinets on the other side of the trailer. After a moment of searching, he then turned on the spot holding a bottle of apple juice and two glasses.

Beth smiled. "Even better."

""⧫""

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Beth was waddling down the steps at a snail's pace when Daryl caught her sneaking out of her trailer. She'd been cooped up in bed for a month, finding great pleasure in walking to and from the bathroom and opening the window for fresh air. She'd been planning to take a walk since Daryl left her alone after breakfast that morning, but it had taken her until mid-afternoon to gain the energy to attempt it.

"I want to see him," she stated simply, finally planting a foot down on solid dirt. She heaved a sigh of relief and took in Daryl's puzzled expression. "Negan," she answered before he could ask.

"Hell no," Daryl growled. "Girl, get your ass back inside."

He took her by the arm and spun her around, intending to force her back up the steps in the most gentle, Daryl-like manner as possible, but she stood firm.

Beth dug her heal into the dirt and hissed, " _Stop it_!"

He didn't. He was seconds away from picking up her very pregnant body and carrying her inside himself, but she pinched him.

"What the hell? Did you just - ?"

"I'm serious, Daryl. I wanna see his face."

Daryl's jaw fell open in stunned misunderstanding. "W-why?"

"Because," she attempted, "it's the only way I'll be able to let it all go."

""⧫""

One foot at a time, Beth stepped into the low-lit room that housed Negan's cell. Rick and Abe had escorted Negan to the Kingdom immediately after his surrender with the expectation of an execution, but Ezekiel had something else in mind. Instead of silencing the monster forever, they locked Negan in a cage with the intent to break him… no matter how long it took. Beth didn't know how to feel about that particular decision, but she found herself feeling thankful for it on the car ride from the Hilltop. She'd decided that facing the man that nearly ruined everything was the one thing that would clear her mind. And she needed it clear.

She approached the bars with caution, heeding Daryl's previous warning to keep a good distance between herself and the man behind them. She wasn't afraid of Negan - he was no more intimidating to her now than a caged animal. Sure, he could and _would_ probably say things to crawl beneath her skin, but what damage could that really do if she didn't allow it? As long as he was incapable of physically doing her harm, he stood no chance at defeating her. So Beth refused to be afraid. She refused to back down. And because of this, she felt fully confident in taking an extra step forward so that she could see him clearly.

Negan remained sitting casually and on the floor with his back to the wall. Though he physically made no move to greet her, his eyes lit up in recognition.

"Sweetheart," he murmured. "You've grown."

Beth breezed past his attempt to taunt her and lifted her chin. "I'm here to say something, and while I talk, you listen. Got it?"

He obviously understood that the question was rhetorical, because he merely raised his eyebrows in response. Beth felt Daryl shift closer from behind her left shoulder, and she took comfort in knowing that he was there, like a silent protector, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"You killed my best friend," Beth spoke coldly, "and you nearly killed my husband."

Negan's eyes shifted upward to Daryl then back down to the girl in front of him.

"If I'd known you a year ago, I'd probably kill you myself. But I'm not that person anymore, and I refuse to bring my daughter into this world with hate in my heart." She hesitated, then swallowed her pride. "So, I forgive you."

As Negan stared fixedly at the moxie in her features, Beth felt herself losing her nerve, but then she felt Daryl place a hand at the small of her back, and she regained just enough to finish what she had to say.

"As long as it takes for you to rot in this cell," she said, "I hope that at some point within that time you'll learn to forgive yourself as well."


	27. Part 27

_40 Weeks_

Beth was overdue.

She was uncomfortable and irritable and on the edge of insanity, but more importantly, she was becoming more and more convinced that her daughter had no interest in being born. Sure, Beth had probably made a nice little home for her and whatever other excuse there was in the book... but it was seriously time. Beth was on her very last nerve - so much that she felt it pulsating in her forehead, because that's where her last working nerve was located. After that one crapped out, her brain would probably fry.

She tried walking, stretching, and even eating spicy food after Jesus let it slip that they'd been growing peppers at the Hilltop. Nothing worked. Unfortunately, given the present apocalypse, there was no way to induce the labor medically, so Beth was left with no other option but to wait it out.

As much as he wanted to be there for his wife, Daryl thought it best that he give Beth her space. It wasn't that she was annoyed by his presence or anything that trivial, he just hated the feeling of being helpless. Watching her suffer made his stomach turn in knots of sympathy and then turn into guilt every time he reminded himself that his pain was nothing compared to hers. He tried to keep himself busy with random chores, but despite how deeply he immersed himself in hauling firewood or patching up holes on the roof of Barrington House, he found his mind wandering back to Beth.

Yet, just when he'd refocused his thoughts and was in the middle of dumping the last armful of logs onto the stockpile, Jesus came running from Beth's trailer, and Daryl knew it was time.

Nine hours later, he was holding Abigail Ruth in his arms.

Beth had fallen asleep, completely exhausted from hours of pushing and fighting contractions, and Daryl didn't want to disturb her, so when he'd heard Abby start to stir, he took her from her basket and went to sit by the window. He rocked her back and forth gently in his arms and watched her tiny eyelids flutter closed. She felt so fragile compared to himself - just seeing the size of her hand against his made him nervous - but he could already tell she was strong.

She cooed softly, and Daryl brushed his index finger lightly against her pink cheek. Abby's hand stretched out reflexively and wrapped around his knuckle.

"That's right, baby girl," he whispered. "I'm here. Daddy's here."

She yawned and nuzzled into the blanket that held her like a cocoon. As she drifted back into her dreams, Daryl began humming to her softly. At first, it was an unknown melody floating in the back of his mind, but the more he watched her, the words came into focus and fell from his lips like a distant memory.

" _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."_

He hadn't thought about that song since his mother sang it to him as a boy, but it felt natural to sing it now. It felt comforting, to both him and the little girl pressed against his chest.

So, he continued to sing.

""⧫""

"The good news is that you suffered minimal tearing during labor, so your healing process should be quick and easy," Harlan explained, finishing up Beth's final exam.

"But…?" Beth inquired, sensing an exception.

He looked at her quizzically, preparing for her forthcoming argument. "I am concerned about you getting your strength back," he said, then added, "before you try to do too much."

"I'll be fine," she countered.

Harlan pressed on. "Giving birth may be beautiful, but it is considered to be a trauma to the body. Given our lack of sufficient equipment and medications, I highly advise you to take it easy. Let your body heal itself naturally in its own time. You'll only cause problems if you try to rush it."

"I've been on bedrest for months," Beth argued. "I can't stand it anymore."

"You won't be bedridden. I'm just advising against any strenuous activity. No climbing the walls, no going on runs, and no putting yourself in unnecessary situations you might have to fight your way out of." He creased his brow pointedly, and she sighed. Then he said, "Also, this sort of goes without saying, but… no intercourse for at least three weeks. Or until you're fully healed."

Daryl smirked. "No problem."

Beth gave him a sly expression, daring him to try something. He merely smiled and continued to caress Abby's back as she lay on his chest.

"You should try feeding her again," Harlan suggested as he stood up to collect his things. "She'll catch on eventually."

Daryl complied and handed Abby off to Beth's awaiting arms.

"What if she doesn't?" Beth questioned.

Harlan paused. "Not all babies are breastfed. Our runners have been told that formula and diapers are their number one priority as far as supplies go, so she'll be fine no matter what." He gave Beth a reassuring smile, but she didn't return it. He could sense the panic in her face at the possibility that her own daughter might reject her. "Don't take it personally," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We're all stubborn. Some more than others." He winked and brushed a thumb over Abby's tiny wisps of hair.

"Thanks, doc," Daryl credited as Harlan walked out of the trailer.

Beth was already pulling her T-shirt over her head and situating Abby in a more suitable way to start feeding. Daryl propped two pillows behind Beth's back so she could relax in a sitting position, then he moved to the end of the bed and sat.

"Come on, Abby. Stop being stubborn," Beth murmured. "You're gonna starve if you don't eat." She waited a second, then lightly pinched the baby's cheeks. Her tone changed into determination. "Abigail Ruth, you listen to me. This is your boob. Take it or leave it."

Abby cooed and stirred, stretching her toes against Beth's stomach.

Daryl laughed. "Lucky girl, doesn't even know what she's got."

Beth huffed out an annoyed sigh.

"Hey," Daryl spoke, summoning her attention. He grabbed her leg and squeezed. "You heard what Doctor Carson said. She'll be fine no matter what."

"I know. It's just frustrating."

Daryl motioned to change the subject. "Did you still wanna name her Dixon-Greene?"

Beth shook her head. "No. I changed my mind."

"Just Greene?"

Her face lit up. "No, silly - just Dixon. Abigail Ruth Dixon."

Daryl looked proud, but asked anyway, "Why?"

"Well, if I'm gonna be a Dixon girl," she said, "then she's gotta be one too, right?"

She smiled, using all that southern charm to melt his heart just by the look on her face. Then, Beth let out a yelp. She looked down to see that Abby was now latched onto her breast.

" _She's doing it!_ " Beth squealed in a hushed tone.

Daryl let out an amused scoff. "How's it feel?"

"Really weird."

""⧫""

Several weeks passed by practicing the same routine. Beth fed Abby around the clock. She clothed her, bathed her, and rocked her to sleep. It became more like a ritual than actual day to day living, so after a month of being cooped up in the trailer, Beth decided it was time to move back to Alexandria.

Both Jessie and Maggie came to help with the relocation, and between the three of them, it didn't take much to gather all of Abby's things, pack them into a van, and hit the road. Daryl drove all four ladies down the dirt roads with caution. Beth caught him looking in the rearview mirror multiple time to check on Abby who was busy watching the trees fly by above her with wonder. She held tightly onto the carseat as they hit bumps, but when they finally made it to the main highway, she relaxed and closed her eyes.

Once they were behind the gates of the Safe Zone, Beth felt a gigantic weight lifted from her shoulders. It felt good to be back in a place she called home, but it felt even better to have Abby there with her. Beth stared up at the house in front of her and sighed. Daryl understood. He didn't question her moment of silence as he came to stand beside her and peer up at the roof that gave them shelter.

"Let's do this," he finally said, ushering her forward.

He then took the car seat from Beth's grip and brought Abby inside.

""⧫""

Deanna thought it would be prudent to have a celebratory dinner in the wake of their victory over the Saviors, and - she keenly added at the last minute - to properly welcome the newest member of the town. Beth had already prepared for Abby to take the spotlight now that Judith was no longer the only little one to fawn over. She didn't mind. It was good that people had something to be excited about again. It was good that their previous looks of worry and uncertainty were now replaced with hope and glee. It was over - the worst of it was actually over - and Beth found herself feeling utterly calm. She'd been right; Negan was the last monster they were going to face. She wasn't sure how long he'd spend behind bars before the new council voted to execute him, but Beth wasn't concerned with their decision. She'd said her peace, and the only thing she had to focus on now was raising her daughter in the new world that they'd created.

After everyone's plates were cleared and guests began filtering back into the living room for drinks, Beth wandered away from the party and out onto the front porch. Deanna's house was not unlike the others on the street, but it did hold a sense of authority. It sat at the front of the circle, daring any visitors to pass by her domain before entering the rest of the town. Beth respected Deanna and had come to admire the relationship she and Rick were building. As a member of the newly formed council, Beth knew Deanna's vote would weigh heavily on the decision to kill Negan, but it more than likely wouldn't win. The damage that man inflicted on everyone around him still hung in the air like poisonous smoke, and most everyone agreed that the only way to rid the poison was to kill the source. Rick's choice was set, but Beth wasn't sure where Jesus or Ezekiel rested on the spectrum.

The creak of an opening door pulled Beth away from her thoughts as Rosita stepped outside to join her. Her dark hair was down, falling in waves that just barely hit the tops of her shoulders. It was rare, but the situation called for it, and Beth made sure to acknowledge the effort.

"Your hair looks nice like that," she said.

Rosita tucked some strands absentmindedly behind her left ear. "Thanks. I wish it was long enough to braid, like yours."

"You'd get tired of it in a day," Beth conceded. She twirled the end of the single braid, now long enough to fall against her breasts. "I think I wanna cut it."

"Why?"

There was an unspoken assumption in Rosita's curiosity. They both knew Beth wouldn't be going outside the walls very often anymore, so the need to be practical wasn't necessary. But Rosita saw the disappointment that flickered in Beth's eyes, and felt the need to correct herself.

"I mean, why now?" she asked.

Beth pursed her lips and examined the dead ends that frayed this way and that beyond the rubber band that held her braid together. She frowned, then met Rosita's face. "It'll be one less thing for Abby to grab."

Rosita nodded. They stood there in silence for a long while, then the other girl squared her shoulders, preparing to say something.

"I have something to show you," Rosita stated. "It's about Noah."

Beth shuddered and caught her breath in the back of her throat. She'd done her grieving - probably not as well as she should have, but she'd done it nonetheless. She'd moved past it, because that was the only thing she could do. She had to think about Abby and Daryl coming home safely. It was a loss that hit pretty deep in the gut, but she'd forced herself to not let it consume her.

Rosita, on the other hand, had done just that. Beth and Rosita weren't particularly loquacious, but even she had noticed when the other girl slipped into herself and disappeared. Rosita and Noah had been in love, and Beth hadn't had the decency to pay attention. Noah was her best friend, and she never thought to ask if he'd found someone.

Beth nodded silently and allowed Rosita to lead her down the steps. She assumed they were going to Rosita's house, but Beth quickly realized that they were heading for Noah's instead. Well, not really. It was just Tara now, and Beth wondered aloud if this was where Rosita had been staying.

"When did you start living with Tara?"

Rosita stuttered in her steps, but kept walking. "Before," she said. "After Abe and I broke up, they let me crash. That's how it happened - me and Noah."

"He never told me," Beth said quietly.

"I know. We wanted that way." Rosita stopped at the door before opening it. "I figured you kinda knew anyway, but it was my decision. I didn't wanna rub Abe's face in it. Not like him."

Her voice grew very stern, and Beth knew she was referring to Abraham's budding relationship with Sasha. It was obvious to the entire town that Abe had been growing out of love with Rosita for a while, but it didn't justify the way he'd chosen to end things. Beth felt sorry for the girl in front of her, crushed by a broken heart, only to have it broken again.

"It's okay," Rosita put forth. "I'm done being angry."

Beth gave her a commending nod, then followed her into the house. They immediately ascended the stairs and approached the first door on the left of the hallway. It was Noah's old room, and Beth found herself fearing what she might find on the other side of the door. Whether it'd been stripped bare or remained exactly the way he left it, either option created a tight knot in the pit of Beth's stomach. She wasn't sure she could bear to see it in either condition, but when Rosita turned the knob, she braced herself to be prepared, regardless of the outcome.

She was shocked to find something completely unexpected. Instead of Noah's things, or even Rosita's, the room looked like a nursery. There were baby clothes spread across the bed, toys piled on the desk and overflowing from several boxes in the corner. There was a crib and a changing table and mobile, all of which looked to be in pristine condition.

Beth's hand flew to her mouth in shock.

"He found all of it," Rosita said. "Every time he went out, he made a point to look for baby stuff. He wanted you to be prepared, because he knew you were scared, and he figured that as long as you had all the stuff you needed, that was one less thing to worry about."

Beth eyes brimmed with tears as she picked up a pink stuffed elephant. She hugged it to her chest and felt something magical bubbling up inside her. When she opened her mouth, she found herself laughing. At first, Rosita looked uncomfortable - unsure whether or not Beth was having a mental break - but after realizing it was genuine, she let out a short snicker. The two of them took in the ridiculous amount of stuff that filled the room, and suddenly they were both cackling uncontrollably.

Beth sank to the ground and wiped the tears of joy from the corners of her eyes. "We're gonna be okay," she said confidently. "We're gonna be okay."


	28. Part 28

"I have a surprise for you."

Jessie and Beth were spending the day arranging Abby's new nursery to their liking. Earlier, Beth had selected the spare bedroom across from her and Daryl's room as the best fit, so after hauling all of Noah's findings into the house and up the stairs, they got to work organizing and decorating. Most of the heavy lifting was left to Daryl and Glenn - Beth had recruited them after receiving the stink eye from Maggie for trying to do it herself. By mid-afternoon, everyone else was due for their shifts on watch or at the gate, so that left Beth and Jessie to finalize the finishing touches.

Abby spent most of her day making spit bubbles and learning the purpose of her own toes. Beth fought the urge to check on her every five minutes, but Jessie's reassurances made it easier. They compromised by placing Abby in the crib once it was properly set and letting her watch as they moved around the room, lining drawers with scraps of wallpaper and hanging the letters of her name along the wall.

They were now sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting through what was left of the clothes Noah had found into piles - things that were closer to Judith's size, and things that would fit Abby in the next few months.

"What?" Beth inquired, referring to Jessie's random statement. "More baby stuff? I hate to say it, but I think we have plenty."

Jessie scoffed. "No. But it does have to do with her." She tilted her head in the direction where Abby lay in the crib and smiled. "You guys should come over for dinner tonight. I'll give it to you then."

Beth had never been to Jessie's house, but she'd admired her eccentric art collection from afar. Her skills with metal weren't just practical; Jessie had spent time crafting art pieces of various factions, and everything from owls to intertwined hearts lined her windows in all shapes and sizes. Based on what the woman had shared, she didn't appear to have a family, but if she did, they were probably gone.

"Okay," Beth agreed cheerfully. "Sounds fun."

""⧫""

Jessie prepared a spread like something Beth had long forgotten, reminiscent of days on the farm walking into the kitchen after her mother spent hours laboring over the stove. Immediately upon walking through the front door, Beth smelled baking bread, rich and creamy alfredo sauce, and spicy garlic.

"I made the sauce," Jessie claimed as she placed the final set of silverware on the table. "All Olivia had was marinara, and I wanted something different."

"It smells incredible," Beth mused, sniffing the air around her. Then, she moved to the stove and lifted the lid on one of the pans. "But how?"

Jessie hesitated, fumbling with the edge of her shirt. "Umm, my son," she started. "He was lactose intolerant, so I happened to have a lot of vegan cheese. It lasts," she added, overly casual. "No dairy."

Daryl walked in the door a moment later carrying Abby in her carseat. "Damn. You really meant dinner," he said.

Jessie's smile grew wide at the compliment, and all signs of her previous discomfort disappeared. She gestured flamboyantly to the table for them to have a seat, so they did.

""⧫""

After an hour or so of conversation and dining, Jessie stood up from the table and purposefully left the room. When she came back, she was holding a thick journal bound with multiple rubber bands. From the looks of it, without them the book wouldn't remain closed. There were layers of newspaper and creased photos protruding from the edges of the journal. When Jessie unwound the rubber bands and Beth's eyes fell onto the first page, she saw that it was a photo of Jessie's family - her husband and their two boys - all of which were gone.

Beth and Daryl grew very quiet. They weren't sure why Jessie had chosen to bring out her journal at this particular moment, but they weren't about to start asking questions without Jessie's approval. This was her moment, and they were choosing to respect it, whatever the origin.

"I've been keeping a journal since I was a freshman in high school," Jessie began. "Back then, it was just a way writing down my hopes and dreams for the future, or being able to rant in secret about my crush." She chuckled to herself and Beth beamed. "But when I got older, it was more for talking about my past. What I did each day, and how I felt about it. I wrote about getting married, and I described the feeling of holding my oldest son in my arms for the first time." She paused and took a steady breath. "Then, when the outbreak happened, I made the decision to keep writing. Every day. No matter what."

Beth swallowed a lump in her throat and glanced at Daryl across the table. She could sense that he was uncomfortable, but at the same time, he seemed deeply invested in Jessie's story. Beth was too, and she wondered where it was going to lead.

"I knew that as long as I kept writing," Jessie said, "I would be able to keep going somehow. But if I stopped, nothing would matter anymore." She closed her eyes and then reset them on Beth. She spoke pointedly. "I never stopped marking off the days. I didn't want to lose track of time."

There was something in that statement that awoke Beth's senses. She felt a subtle jolt in her stomach as it flipped in realization.

Jessie's mouth formed a humbled grin, and she seemed to be fighting back tears. "I know what day it is," she told them plainly. "And I know what day your daughter was born."

Daryl didn't realize the gift they were being given until the sound of Beth choking back a sob caught his attention. Their eyes met, and in that solitary moment, the idea clicked between them. Their daughter had a birthday, and from that day forward, they'd be able to celebrate it. Properly.

"She was born a little over a month ago," Beth informed Jessie, attempting to help retrieve the number herself. "I'm not sure if - "

Jessie stopped her. "I wrote down the day she was born. We received the news from Glenn the day after, so I made sure to log it. Beth…" She waited for Beth to refocus her scattered excitement, then Jessie said, "Abby was born on June 14th."

A wave of silence wiped across the room as Beth and Daryl took in the phrase. It was like waking up from a very long, very confusing dream. They'd been living in a state of limbo for years, and now, suddenly, they were awake. They were in the present, and the present had a name.

"What's today?" Daryl asked directly. "What's today's date?"

"It's July 19th," Jessie answered. Then she added, "You arrived here, in Alexandria, a year ago next month."

""⧫""

After dinner, Daryl was reluctant to report to gate duty.

He couldn't keep his mind away from the idea of time. It'd been so long since he'd thought about days and numbers. Holidays and birthdays were distant memories, yet they'd somehow returned… like a gift from the grave.

He managed to pass the hours by keeping his thoughts steered toward Abby. He thought about how great it would be to plan future celebrations around that perfect little face. He'd do anything to make his girl happy, and he knew Beth felt the same. _Christ_. The look on Beth's face when she heard Jessie tell her the date - it was like a light switched on inside her. One that had been flickering for years, threatening to burn out.

Now it was bright. Now it shone brighter than a star.

""⧫""

Beth held Abby so that her small frame bobbed just below the surface of the water.

With her back resting against Beth's forearms, Abby was able to move her arms and legs freely against the odd sensation liquid. They'd taken baths together before - Beth had discovered it was easier to clean both her and her daughter's bodies at the same time - but each time felt special. Each time was like a moment just for them. Abby smiled whenever Beth squeezed water from the wash cloth and let it flow over the back of her head. Beth imagined it felt just as good for a baby that it did for any grown up, for it reminded her of the times her own mother had washed her hair using a bucket to pour water down the length and rinse all the shampoo clean.

"You like that, huh?" Beth spoke gently. "You like that, sweetheart?"

Abby smiled again and reached for Beth's fingers. She wrapped her whole fist around Beth's thumb and squeezed.

"That's right," Beth agreed, commending the action. "I'm yours. And you're mine. You're my little June baby." She thought on the words, then said, "I'm gonna call you Junebug. Sound good?"

Abby made a gurgling noise that Beth took as a _yes._

""⧫""

As he entered the bedroom, Daryl was already removing his clothes, preparing to dive straight into bed and pass out from another long day.

He was down to his boxers when he was temporarily distracted by the sight of his wife, asleep on the bed in nothing but a towel. He stepped quietly across the carpet to peek into Abby's crib and found the little girl sound asleep as well. She and Beth must have taken another bath together. Knowing how exhausted Beth had been the past few days, Daryl assumed she fell asleep putting Abby to bed.

He wanted to give her rest, but there was another desire tugging deep in the pit of his stomach. Careful not to make any unnecessary noise that would stir the baby, Daryl leaned over Beth's peaceful body and placed a light kiss to the outside of her left knee. She twitched gently at the sensation, but she didn't wake. He placed a hand on the inside of her thigh and grazed over her smooth skin. Up, past the towel, he circled her hip, and the towel began to separate. The higher he felt, he more fabric fell away. When he reached her chest, it opened completely and exposed the most beautiful body Daryl had ever seen.

Beth's back arched in her sleep. She was still dreaming, but she could feel his touch. Daryl kissed his way down her legs as he removed his boxers and climbed onto the surface of the bed. Even though the mattress sank considerably under the weight, it remained silent. The only audible sound was the quickening of Beth's breath against the pillow. She turned her face from one side to the other, and Daryl situated himself between her thighs.

He spoke in a hushed whisper against her neck. "Beth. Wake up, babe." Beth hummed in response, so Daryl pressed his mouth to hers. He knew she was awake when she started moving her lips. He breathed heavily against them and said, "Just say the word."

She locked her ankles around the backs of his legs and kissed him deeply. Her tongue brushed lavishly against his, and he could taste her desire, but he needed to hear her say it. It had to be okay.

"Beth," he said her name again. "Say something."

There was a momentary pause as Beth glanced at Abby's crib. "Is she still asleep?" she asked.

Daryl nodded. "Means we gotta be quiet. Okay with that?"

As she devoured his mouth with hers once more, Beth breathed out a devastating, " _Yes_."

He sank into her, and she gasped. It wasn't loud, but the subtle sound of the air leaving her lungs in lust made Daryl's toes curl. He loved her so much. He didn't mind not being able to touch her for so long, but damn it felt good to be back inside her. And it meant so much more now that their daughter, the tiny human they'd created together, was asleep only a few feet from them. Seeing Beth as a mother was sexy as hell, and he couldn't get enough of the woman she'd become.

"I love you," Daryl breathed as he pushed them both over the edge. Beth buried her face in the crook of his neck to keep from screaming in pleasure. "I love you," he repeated. Over and over until they both broke and melted into each other's arms.

"I love you, too," she finally said. She was out of breath but smiling. "I'm so happy."

He kissed her cheek. "Me too."

""⧫""

Abby awoke around two o'clock.

It was more than likely time to change her diaper and routinely rock her back to sleep, so Beth took the initiative and rolled out of bed. Daryl was awake, and he let her know by placing a hand on her back as she pulled an oversized T-shirt on over her head. She then slipped on a clean pair of panties so she wouldn't be completely immodest and went to her baby.

Abby was definitely unhappy, but when Beth checked her diaper it was still dry. She'd fed her after the bath, so there was no reason for her to be hungry already, but there had to be something bothering her. Beth flipped her onto her stomach and cradled her, lightly tapping on her back in case she was gasy. But nothing happened. She situated her so that her head rested against Beth's shoulder, and she continued to rock and and pat and caress… but Abby still cried.

After a while, Daryl sat up and came to them. He crouched down beside where Beth sat in the rocking chair by the window and brushed a thumb over Abby's temple.

"What do you think it is?" he asked.

Beth looked at him with wide eyes. Her pupils were fully dilated from the dark, but he could surely see the fear that hid there.

"I don't know," she said weakly. "I have no idea."

""⧫""

Two days later, Beth and Daryl drove Abby to the Hilltop.

She'd only managed to stop crying for a minimum of two hours before starting back up again at full volume. Then, after what seemed to be a stint of never ending tears, she stopped. It was music to their ears, but they were wrong to think it was over. For the next two days, the same thing happened. Like clockwork. So, fearing the worst, they immediately hopped in the car and made their way to see Dr. Carson.

Harlan stepped away from the table where he'd been examining Abby and let out a relieving sigh.

"Luckily, I don't think it's gastrointestinal," he said, picking her up and handing her back to Beth. "Have you done a lot with her recently?" he asked, then clarified, "taken her out of the house, or done a lot of activity with her?"

Beth shrugged and said, "I guess."

He continued. "In the first month after babies are born, they have this innate system built in meant to block out everything around them that isn't necessary, that way they can eat and sleep with little focus. After that first month, though, that system goes away, so there's a chance Abby might be overstimulated."

"How do we help her?" Beth asked, slight panic in her voice.

"If she cries, tend to her," he stated. "Letting children cry it out is poor advice. Especially, this young. And try not to have too many visitors. Keep her routine simple and strict. Limit noise. You know, just create a peaceful atmosphere for her. Eventually, it will pass, and she'll be able to filter out her surroundings on her own."

"I don't remember Judith crying like this," Daryl said, looking to Beth.

Harlan interjected. "All babies are different. Unfortunately, Abby seems to be prone to colic. All you can do is soothe her until it passes."

Beth looked down into Abby's tear-stained blue eyes and fought to hold back her own tears. She'd never felt so helpless in her whole life. She was her mother, and she couldn't do anything to make her better.


	29. Part 29

Daryl wasn't sure if he should feel guilty or relieved to be out on a run with Rick.

He'd put up a fight with Beth, trying to convince her that he didn't _need_ to go - they weren't going to be scavenging for essentials, and Rick could always choose someone else - but she made him leave. She actually shoved him out the door with genuine force, and he was so stunned by her determination that he'd forgotten to tell Abby goodbye. Fortunately, Beth realized this as well, so she opened the door just long enough for him to kiss his daughter quickly on the cheek.

The past couple months had been rough. Attempting to soothe Abby's colic became almost a daily struggle, but after settling into a solid routine, she fell into a pattern of crying about three times a week. It was frustrating, but it became more manageable with every passing day, and still...that didn't mean he wanted to be away from her. So, as enjoyable as it was to be surrounded by nothing but quiet open roads, Daryl still found himself missing that sweet little face.

"Did you hear that?" Rick questioned, pausing in the forest where they'd been stalking.

Daryl readied his crossbow and whirled on the spot. Too caught up in thought, he hadn't been listening to his surroundings like he should have been. He pressed his back to Rick's, and the two of them scanned the trees for any sign of trouble. Daryl didn't hear any approaching footsteps. He could tell the difference between humans and walkers, but neither made their presence known if they were out there. There was _something_ though. Something faint. Almost like that flat white noise in the middle of a crowd. Everyone conversing at the same time, creating a buzz that fills the air. There weren't enough people left to make such sounds, and the possibility of another source sent a deep shiver down Daryl's spine. He cocked his head to get a better listen and picked up a direction.

"It's coming from this way," Daryl said.

He led the way out of the forest, and Rick followed. After entering a clearing, they found themselves only a few feet away from the edge of a cliff. Daryl's jaw fell open at the sight in front of him, for below his boots extended a quarry nearly fifty feet deep. More shocking, however, was the sight of what filled it. For within the cavernous pit, there were thousands upon thousands of Walkers.

""⧫""

Beth didn't know why she was crying.

Well, she did know - it was plainly obvious with the laughing baby now crawling across her living room floor - but it had caught her by surprise, so the tears were likewise unexpected. Abby had been rolling over on her own for a month, but crawling was a completely new accomplishment. It was more of a drag, given that the baby girl wasn't fully aware of how to pick her stomach up off the floor, but she was moving, and Beth was overcome with tears of joy.

Beth whirled around to call for Daryl before realization dawned on her. He wasn't there, and he wouldn't be back for several days. Not only was he missing this milestone in his daughter's life, but Beth didn't have anyone to share it with. She hurried to the door and flung it open. Still keeping Abby in her sights, she scanned the street outside for anyone passing by. To her luck, Rosita _and_ Jessie were seconds away from turning the corner.

"Hey!" Beth yelled from her porch. "Guys, come here! Quick!"

Jessie grabbed Rosita by the forearm, and they both hauled ass towards Beth's house. When they got to the door, Jessie had a look of dismay clamoring across the furrow in her brow. Rosita had unsheathed her knife.

"What's wrong?" Rosita demanded.

Beth quickly defused their panic by pulling them both across the threshold and pointing excitedly at Abby. She was still shuffling her way across the hardwood, and at the sight of those chubby cheeks, both girls sighed in relief.

"Don't scare us like that," Jessie let out, playfully slapping Beth across the arm.

Beth frowned. "I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted someone else to see." Her eyes drifted, unfocused. "Daryl isn't here."

Rosita dropped to the floor in a crouch beside Abby and smiled. "Look at you go, you little rugrat."

"I guess she's not strong enough to hold herself up yet," Beth said. "But she's movin'."

"It's great, Beth," Jessie encouraged. "You should write it down."

After sharing her journal, Jessie had suggested Beth start one of her own. Not necessarily for herself, but for Abby. Logging important memories with dates would help bring back a sense of normalcy for them. And especially for the little girl, it would be something physical for her to keep. Beth found herself longing for her mother's old photo albums more times than she'd care to admit. Just to look back and remember the details her memory had forgotten. All the treasures from her childhood were gone now. Left as ash in what remained of her family's farm back in Georgia. If Abby had the luxury of growing up in Alexandria, Beth was going to make sure she had plenty of memories. And no chance to forget.

""⧫""

"This is how," Rick submitted.

Daryl's eyes drifted to his companion's shocked features then back to the endless pit below them.

"All this time, I've wondered how we've been so lucky."

"Lucky?" Daryl disagreed. "I wouldn't call Negan, or those Wolves, luck."

Rick shook his head. "I meant the Walkers. We've hardly seen any since we got here." He looked back to the quarry pointedly. "This is why."

"Alright," Daryl mumbled. "So, we leave it be. They look like they're having a good time. No need to crash the party."

"I don't think we can," Rick hesitated.

He pointed to the furthest side of the cliff directly across from where they stood. Blocking what looked like a path down to the bottom were two semi trucks backed in side by side. The one closest to the edge was leaning slightly due to its right front wheel dipping over the brink. Clusters of rock crumbled from beneath the wheel and cascaded down to the Walkers below. It was so close to falling over, Daryl wasn't sure a gentle breeze wouldn't send it toppling.

He knew what Rick was thinking. If that gap opened up in the path, the noise would draw every last one of those dead freaks in the direction of home. They had no choice but to try and redirect them. The question was… how the _hell_ were they going to do it?

""⧫""

Two days later, Beth sat mystified at the kitchen table.

Daryl had returned with grim news - something she hadn't been expecting post-war - and it had taken her several hours to process what was being said. All that time spent fighting against other people, the group had more or less forgotten about the real reason they were in this mess. They'd brushed off the Walkers as a minimal threat since hunkering down behind the walls of Alexandria, but that delusion would soon be over. Soon, they'd be surrounded, unless they did something to stop it.

"How many?" Beth questioned again, still unable to wrap the large number around her small head.

Daryl dropped his chin. "Thousands. Too many to kill."

"What else is there to do?"

"Lead them away," Daryl stated plainly. "Create enough noise away from home to send them in the opposite direction. It's gonna take everybody. And we can't screw up."

Beth gathered herself with resolve. "Does Rick have a plan?"

"He's working on it."

""⧫""

Several days passed while Rick formulated a strategy. He met with Jesus at the Hilltop, and together, they sketched out the best possible route to lead the horde of Walkers away.

Part of the plan involved using leftover materials from the fence to build a wall big enough to block the main road leading to town. Doing so would ensure the parade was diverted in the proper direction. _Eight ball, corner pocket_ … in the words of Eugene.

Beth volunteered to help dig out plots for the posts in the wall, but Deanna had respectfully declined her offer. The intention was to allow Beth time with her baby, but she'd taken it in a negative light. She was growing soft in everyone's eyes - her being the mother to a newborn and all - but Beth had a knack for proving people wrong. She showed up at the work site the morning of completely unannounced and was greeted with a subtle nod from Rosita - commendation, she guessed, for her defiance.

"Hey gorgeous." Beth turned to see Tara approaching from behind with two shovels in hand. "Where's Lil Asskicker 2.0?"

Beth grinned. "At home," she said, then added, "With Daryl."

"Needed a break?" Tara assumed with soft eyes, clearly without judgement.

"No. But he offered."

Tara clicked her tongue and beamed. "Well, if you want something physical to do other than changing diapers, there's plenty of dirt to go around." She handed her a shovel, and Beth took it without hesitation.

"Sure," Beth agreed. "Where should I start?"

"Here with me is good."

The first hour went by quickly, and Beth found herself basking in the sweat now dripping from her brow. She wiped away at the moisture with the back of her hand, not caring whether or not she left dirt marks smeared across her skin, and took a moment to absorb her surroundings. Something she enjoyed even more than the physical labor was the company. It'd been awhile since being in the presence of so many residents of the town. She'd been keeping to herself for quite some time, just before and after giving birth, so it felt nice to be part of the community again. Even if it was under unfortunate circumstances.

Rosita noticed Beth pause in her work and came over to chat, but the conversation didn't last long. After several seconds of awkward silence and a couple poignant glances to Tara, Rosita excused herself and went back to digging on her side of the slowly forming wall.

Beth watched her friend sulk away then immediately turned to Tara. "What was that?"

Tara lifted her gaze from the ground with raised eyebrows. "What was what?"

"Rosita," Beth urged. "Is she okay?"

Tara answered but then quickly averted the subject. "Yeah, she's fine. Listen…" She perched her forearm casually on the tip of her shovel, hand resting on her hip, and said, "Did you hear about Negan?"

Beth's ears rang. She hadn't heard that name in months. After the council voted against execution, Beth assumed Negan was rotting away in solitary confinement. Unless he'd made an attempt against his own life, there wasn't much room for news to report. Her stomach jolted at the thought of him hanging limply from the bars of his cell, bed sheets tied sloppily around his neck. She shivered and pushed the image out of her mind.

"No. What about him?" she asked, preparing for the worst.

"They let him out," Tara purged. "At the Kingdom. They let him roam around the courtyard for almost an entire day. Guards were with him, of course, but still. Can you believe it?"

Beth let out an audible _hum_. She pondered over the idea and, after a moment of deliberation, decided it wasn't such a terrible thing.

"That's good, isn't it?" she mused.

Tara pursed her lips. "How so?"

"He must have changed enough for Ezekiel to trust him."

"I don't care how much he's changed. After making those other communities serve him like that? And killing those people? Killing _Noah_? Once a dictator, always a dictator if you ask me. Look what happened when people trusted Hitler."

Beth agreed without protest, knowing that Tara's mind wasn't going to be open to any sort of repentance on Negan's part.

They continued digging well into the late afternoon, and by the time the sun dropped behind the trees, there was a full row of posts lining the road. The group made plans to meet again at first light to install the panels, but Beth knew her body wouldn't be able to handle another long day of work. She was out of shape due to extended bed rest and days spent at home on the couch with Abby. Only a year ago she was in the best physical condition of her life; being on the road with Daryl for all those weeks helped build her strength and endurance. It'd been too long, however, since she'd had to fight her way through a day in order to stay alive. Alexandria had kept them safe, but it made them weak. Even Daryl was less on edge, and that meant something.

Beth made for the truck she'd _borrowed_ from Glenn to make the drive back to town, but Tara caught her before she closed the door.

"Hey," Tara called, out of breath from running to catch up. "If you talk to Rosita…" She stalled. "Just let her know I didn't mean to upset her."

"I don't understand," Beth contemplated aloud. "What happened?"

But Tara was already backing away from the truck. "I'm sure she'll tell you. Just tell her what I said, okay?"

Beth agreed weakly, then she pulled away.


	30. Part 30

When Beth returned home, she found Daryl and Abby asleep on the couch - Daryl sprawled out on his back and Abby on her tummy against his bare chest in nothing but a diaper.

Beth didn't want to disturb them and therefore had to fight the urge to succumb to the unbearable cuteness on display in front of her as she picked Abby up and coddled her. Her daughter was a surprisingly heavy sleeper, so the journey upstairs didn't do much to stir the sleeping child. Abby let out a few tiny whimpers once Beth placed her in the crib but then immediately fell back into a deep sleep. Beth watched her quietly for several minutes before descending the stairs and walking back into the living room.

Daryl was awake and sitting up with his arms resting lazily on his knees. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the back of his left hand and smiled up at Beth as she stepped into his field of vision. She crawled onto his lap and he pulled her close, brushing wisps of blond hair away from her face.

"How was your day?" he asked.

Her mouth formed a veritable grin. "Great. The wall is almost finished."

"Was anyone actually surprised you showed up?"

Beth scoffed. "Not really. Deanna didn't say anything, and I ended up working with Tara most of the day."

"How was that?"

"Good. I got to know her a little better." Beth straightened herself awkwardly and lifted her chin. "Although," she hesitated, "some interesting things were brought up."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Beth thought about the awkwardness between Tara and Rosita, but the information she'd learned about Negan seemed to be gnawing at the back of her mind. "She told me something about Negan."

Daryl's hold around her waist tightened. "What about him?"

"She said Ezekiel's been giving him more freedom," she explained timidly. "Letting him walk around the courtyard and stuff like that."

"Does he have guards?" Daryl questioned.

"Yeah. Yeah, totally. But it just made me think."

"About whether or not it's a good idea," he assumed. Daryl let out a rough sigh from the base of his throat and leaned back against the couch. He ran his index finger absentmindedly under the hem of her shirt and said, "I'll talk to Rick."

""⧫""

Rick and Daryl made a trip to the Kingdom that next morning.

Despite the amount of prep that Daryl had put into forming his argument, he didn't feel prepared to make a case against Ezekiel's decision. Three out of the four council members had voted to keep Negan alive - Rick being the one opposed - and part of that decision was made with the intention of allowing him to be held under Ezekiel's watch at the Kingdom. It was something they had all agreed upon in the end, and it felt wrong to question that now, but still, Daryl had expected Negan to live in a cage for the rest of his dull and miserable life. Not walk freely through the vegetable patches like a man with a clean ledger. Ezekiel had to at least hear them out. If not that, he had better have a good reason for letting a killer roam free.

Rick was the one to speak up, demanding to see the man in question. Ezekiel's second in command, Sir Richard, led them to Negan's quarters with little concern, but Daryl was already on edge. He needed to see what they saw. He needed to see the change in Negan's eyes that proved the man had turned over a new leaf.

But, unfortunately, that was not was he saw.

Negan paced the corners of his cell like a caged lion, and Daryl could sense the excitement in his notorious grin. Rick and Daryl's presence meant new toys to play with, but Daryl was in no mood for games. Daryl's awareness coiled in the pit of his stomach, ready to strike into action at a moment's notice.

"Nice to see you again," Negan greeted sinfully. "Daryl, isn't it?"

Daryl locked eyes with the man in the cage but didn't so much as blink a reply.

"How's fatherhood treating you? I assume your wife had the baby, given that nothing went wrong." Negan's face drew into a mock look of concern. "I hope nothing happened."

"We're not here to talk, Negan," Rick interjected, physically stepping in front of Daryl in order to keep him from pouncing. "We're just checking in."

Negan smirked. "How considerate. Well, if you must know, I have a roof over my head, food to eat, and a bed to sleep in. They even let me out for some fresh air now and again. What more could a man ask for?"

Daryl let out an involuntary snarl. What Beth had heard was true: Negan was being let out of his cell to roam about in the Kingdom without approval from the rest of the council. Despite the prisoner being kept under Ezekiel's watch, a decision like that should not have been made alone. Especially when it could affect so many.

They didn't waste anymore time. Both Daryl and Rick went straight to the source, confronting Ezekiel himself about the problem and what should be done to fix it. However, only a few minutes into the meeting, Rick's walkie starting hissing.

" _Rick,_ " the voice called. " _Rick! Pick up!"_

Daryl grabbed the radio before Rick could answer and responded on his behalf. "This is Daryl. What's up?" he asked, assuming the worst.

" _It's Heath_." The radio crackled again, then cut in a bit clearer. " _We've got a problem at the quarry. This plan is live_." A pause. " _I repeat, the plan is live_!"

Daryl nearly dropped the device after Heath's final words cut out. Silence echoed over the speaker. No static. No voices. Nothing. Just air.

"We have to go," Rick surged, turning on the spot.

Ezekiel called after him. "What's happening? What do you want us to do?"

"Stick to the plan," Daryl commanded.

He started sprinted after Rick at full speed, loading a new bolt as he moved. He stopped just long enough to pull the crossbow cables tightly into position, then he hopped into the passenger side of the truck.

They drove away at full speed, but Rick was already on the walkie again, trying to reach Glenn.

"Glenn, I need your status," Rick urged into the mouthpiece. "Tell me what's happening."

A few clicks came over the speaker, then Glenn's panicked voice filled the cab. " _One of the semis fell. It just toppled over. We couldn't stop it. Walkers started flooding out the east exit, so we had to green light it, man. Heath and Rosita are taking the cars. Everyone else is covering their bases._ "

"Check back in with Heath," Rick insisted. "He cut out a minute ago. I'm gonna radio back to Alexandria on channel 2."

" _Got it,_ " Glenn replied. " _Over and out._ "

Daryl's blood pressure was boiling. His veins were on the verge of bursting through his skin at the thought of thousands of undead raining down upon his town. Upon the home that held his wife and his baby girl. He clenched at the handle of the crossbow and gritted his teeth.

Rick was trying to get someone to pick up at home-base, but no one was answering. Either they were too far out of range, or no one was around. Daryl doubted it was the former.

"We have to get back to warn them," he said forcefully. "They aren't prepared."

Rick shook his head. "Someone will pick up. Glenn and the others need us out here. We have to help lead them away." Rick turned slightly and caught the look of damnation on Daryl's face. "We gotta stick to the plan, Daryl." His face was stone. "Look," Rick continued. "This is why we had Heath on watch - in case this happened. We have a plan. We at least have that."

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and slumped into his seat with a growl. "Yeah. We'll see."

""⧫""

Maggie banged on the end of the walkie talkie with her palm. "The batteries are dead," she said, emptying them onto the table. They scattered about, rolling in different directions across the surface of the wood.

"I know I heard something," Beth said, setting her jaw.

"I believe you, but we can't respond without a charge."

They'd just returned home after finishing up their morning shift working on the wall and had been looking for Olivia's checklist so they return their weapons when Beth heard a voice coming through the radio on the counter. It had been faint, but it was enough to catch her attention.

"Where does Olivia keep the extra batteries?" she asked.

Maggie scanned the pantry. "In the supply closet, I would guess. With the flashlights and stuff like that."

"Well, come on," Beth insisted. "Let's look."

Together they searched the shelves up and down. They dug deep into the back of drawers and sifted through buckets of bullet casings and other random finds, but they came up with nothing. Finally, Beth discovered a box hidden under the lowest shelf by the door.

"Jackpot," she celebrated, pulling the box free.

There were dozens of loose batteries of every size and voltage, but there were only three that fit the radio, and they needed four.

"There's got to be another one somewhere," Maggie sighed. She bit her bottom lip and scanned the room again, searching for anything else they could use.

Beth's eyes lit up with an idea. "We can take one out of the baby monitor," she suggested. "It's the same kind."

"Brilliant," Maggie cheered. "Let's go."

They rushed back to Beth's house, radio and batteries in hand. Jessie was surprised to see them bursting through the door and nearly dropped the bowl of applesauce she was feeding to Abby.

"What the hell?" she declared. "What's going on?"

Beth darted up the stairs to retrieve the baby monitor while Maggie explained the situation to Jessie. It was vital that they hear whatever message was being delivered over the walkie talkies, for both Rick and Daryl were at the Kingdom to check on Negan, and Heath had taken a group out to stand watch at the quarry. Any number of things could be happening, and they were clueless until that radio was turned on and working.

"I've got it. I've got it," Beth chanted, running back down the stairs. She took the liberty of shoving the final battery into the radio herself and turned the dial to the first channel. It clicked into place, but nothing came over the speaker except static. She clicked over to the second channel and heard a beep. "Hello? This is home-base. Do you copy?"

All three women waited with bated breath. Even Abby seemed to be holding still, waiting for something to happen.

Beth repeated the call, and soon after there was a beep.

A voice answered from the other side, and everyone let out a collective sigh. " _This is Rick,_ " the voice said. " _The plan is in motion at the quarry. Everyone get to your assigned positions. We do this now_."

A long silence filled the air as they each attempted to register the meaning of Rick's words. If they were going through with the plan early, that must have meant that one of the trucks had fallen. Walkers were on their way to Alexandria at that very moment, unless they were able to draw them away. That meant Daryl was stuck out there, and he wasn't supposed to be outside the wall. That wasn't part of the plan.

Beth swallowed a lump in her throat and sighed nervously. "Shit."

Then, as if on cue, Abby began to cry.


	31. Part 31

The plan wasn't working.

Most of the group was unable to get into position in time to control the horde, so at least half of the Walkers were already well on their way to Alexandria. Rosita and Heath were able to draw the back half of the parade away with their car, but Glenn and the others were struggling to keep stragglers in line. Daryl and Rick caught up to the mess just in time to stop a few dozen dead from diverting off the path, but it wasn't good enough. There were too many to keep their eyes on, and the front of the pack was already lost.

"Maggie. Beth. Somebody, come in."

Rick's luck was running out. He'd tried the radio four times already, but no one on the other side was picking up. Daryl was on the verge of losing his nerve. He desperately wanted to get back to Alexandria and warn the others, mostly because he knew the front of the horde was already too far ahead for them to succeed at drawing them away. They'd never get to the front of the pack in time to make a difference. The only bright side was that they'd managed to split it in half. The back end was headed in the opposite direction, and that was something. But it wasn't enough. They had to ditch the plan and warn the others.

Daryl had to get back to Beth and Abby.

"We need to go," Daryl insisted. He was perched in the back of the truck to get a better aim at taking out Walkers as Rick drove. He banged on the back window and yelled, "Let's split off and cut through the woods. We can get to the back entrance in time if we gun it."

Rick wiped his brow and clutched desperately at the steering wheel. "No," he yelled back, catching Daryl's eyes in the rearview mirror. "We've got this. We just need to get to the front."

"Rick, it ain't gonna work. We can make it home to warn the others, but we can't stop the Walkers. It's too late."

He watched as Rick contemplated the choices. Each option ran across his face like waves of pain. There was no choice. Rick knew that. Daryl could see that he understood.

With a sudden jerk of the steering wheel, Rick turned them off the road and into the woods. There was just enough space between the trees to give them a clear path. Daryl had tracked through the area before, so he knew it would lead them straight to the back gate of Alexandria where Beth and Jessie escaped when Negan showed up uninvited. As long as they got there before the horde did, they could make sure the gates were closed.

Daryl reached through the back window and grabbed the walkie from the passenger seat. He switched the dial back to channel one and radioed to Glenn.

"Glenn. We gotta retreat. Head back to town as soon as you've led your group to the rendezvous point. Do you copy?"

Glenn radioed back a quick "copy that" and Daryl let out a sigh of relief. He knocked on the hood of the truck to signal Rick. "Alright, _step on it_!"

""⧫""

Carl wrung his hands thoroughly in frustration. "Can't you get her to stop? She's upsetting Judith."

Abby had yet to stop crying since the news broke that the plan was in motion to lead the horde away from town. One of the semis at the quarry had fallen over the edge unexpectedly and thrown everything into motion at twice the speed. Maggie left with Michonne to take their positions outside the wall, and it was up to Jessie and Beth to keep the kids safe. Not that Carl was a kid anymore. He could have very well made a place for himself on watch with Michonne, but he volunteered to help guard the house. Nothing was getting in or out without his permission, and Beth was thankful to have him… despite his irritation at her daughter.

Turned out the plan had failed. At least half of the Walkers from the quarry were now outside the walls and flooding the perimeter of Alexandria three bodies thick. The gate was locked just in time for Maggie and Michonne to make it into safe territory, but now they were all stuck.

They holed up in Rick's house to devise a plan, but Abby's crying was making it hard to think. Beth rocked the baby soothingly in her arms and tried to distract her with song. The sound of Beth's voice usually calmed her down, so she tried with something she'd sung a thousand times.

 _Of all the comrades that e'er I had_

 _They are sorry for my going away_

 _And all the sweethearts that e'er I had_

 _They would wish me one more day to stay_

 _But since it falls unto my lot_

 _That I should rise and you should not_

 _I'll gently rise and I'll softly call_

 _Goodnight and joy be with you all_

After one verse, Abby's loud tears settled to a quiet whimper. Beth kissed her forehead and held her close. "It's okay, Junebug. It's gonna be okay."

"Who else is out there?" Jessie questioned the group.

Maggie bit her lip and did a vocal head count. "Glenn, Rick." She looked to Beth. "Daryl."

"Rosita and Heath were on guard at the quarry," Michonne added. "Abe went with Glenn."

Carl puffed out his chest and scowled. "That's too many of us missing."

"They'll be okay," Beth stated firmly.

"Yeah. They will," Maggie agreed. "We just have to help them get inside once they show up." She picked up her rifle and checked the chamber. "One of us should be out there right now watching for 'em."

"I'll go," Michonne volunteered, and she was already walking out the door before Maggie could protest.

Beth placed Abby in the play pen next to Judith, and the other girl seemed to understand that it was her job now to keep Abby company. Judith placed a tiny hand on Abby's stomach as if to say, 'I'm here'.

"How did this happened?" Jessie asked under her breath.

She moved to stand across from Beth in the living room with her arms crossed tightly against her chest. She was obviously worried, and Beth wasn't sure how to reassure her. Jessie had never experienced Walkers first hand before, and unfortunately, it took practice to truly understand.

Maggie, Michonne and Carl were in the kitchen, so Beth lowered her voice so they wouldn't hear. "We were caught off guard," Beth admitted. "Rick knew it would happen, but still."

"If there are Walkers outside the walls, that means something went wrong. Aren't you afraid that-?"

"No," Beth cut her off sharply. "I'm not."

The truth was that Beth was terrified. Every time Daryl left Alexandria, she prayed for his safety until the second he returned. It was becoming tiresome. The idea that Abby could grow up without a father haunted her to the point that Beth found herself kissing Daryl longer and holding him tighter. She _was_ afraid, but that never stopped her before. Even on the days she wanted to lay down and cry, she knew that wasn't an option. They all had jobs to do, and hers was keeping Abby safe.

A loud crack suddenly erupted from outside.

Carl spun on his heels. "What was that?"

No one knew, but Maggie ventured out the front door to see for herself. Before she could step out onto the porch, Michonne shoved her aside. She dashed across the threshold, panting. Sweat beading across her brow.

"The wall's down!" she cried. "Walkers are in the streets!"

Several things happened at once. Jessie's hand clamped tightly over her mouth in horror and dropped the sippy cup she was about to give Judith. Carl drew his gun faster than lightning and was shoving past Maggie to get outside the door. Beth's heart had stopped, but her immediate reaction was to grab her knife. She too raced for the door, but Maggie stretched out a hand to stop her.

"Where do you think you're goin'?"

Beth made herself aware of the rash decision she was about to make and calmly explained. "There might be people out there."

As the words came out, she looked past the door and saw Olivia dashing down the street, two Walkers on her tail. Carl was already on the situation. He aimed a clear shot through both heads at once and the bodies fell to the ground in a heap. Olivia screamed in terror, taken aback by the severity of the situation and the bullet whizzing by her unexpectedly, but Carl reeled her in.

"Inside!" he yelled. "Quick!" Olivia hurried up the steps and over the threshold, and Carl did a quick scan of the street. "Was there anyone else?" he demanded, gun still raised.

Olivia shook her head in panic. "Everyone else made it inside. I was in the garden."

"It's okay," Maggie reassured her. "You're safe now."

"What the hell happened out there?" Olivia panted between breaths.

It was the question of the day, and no one really knew the answer. They could give her a play by play of what they'd heard and what they guessed had happened since, but it still didn't answer _why_ it was happening. _Why_ they couldn't catch a break for more than a week without something threatening their sense of security.

Beth sat down in the floor without thinking. It was involuntarily - a collapse of sorts that she couldn't control. Maggie went to her, concerned there was something wrong physically, but she quickly assessed that it was more than that. She'd seen it before, at the farm, after Beth's mother died. Maggie took her sister's face in her hands and tried to pull Beth's focus onto her, but she was in shock.

Michonne snapped into leader mode at once and started battening down the hatches. "We need to block the windows and doors with furniture so they won't burst through," she instructed. "If too many of them pile up this house won't be any sturdier than that wall."

Carl and Maggie immediately offered assistance, lifting the couch to block the front door.

"What if someone else is out there?" Jessie asked. "How will they get in?"

Michonne wrinkled her brow. "Let's hope everyone is safe like Olivia said."

"The ones outside the wall aren't. What about them?"

Everyone looked to one another for the answer, but yet again, there wasn't one.

"Come on," Carl urged, changing the subject. "Let's move that bookshelf against the window."

Beth continued to sit docile on the floor. She watched her friends and family scurry about the house in panic, trying to secure the house the best they could. She could hear the moans from the Walkers outside. They'd approached the house and were close enough that Beth could feel their presence. Wherever Daryl was, she hoped he was well hidden. Either that, or she hoped he had enough sense to kill himself before the dead could eat him alive.

""⧫""

Daryl and Rick could see the gates of Alexandria from where they stood on the roof of the truck.

The plan had been to climb up and over using a low branch just a few feet from one of the observation decks on the back wall. But that plan fell short when they looked down and realized that at least a half a dozen Walkers had snuck up on them and surround the truck. They could still make it across the wall if they jumped, but missing that branch was no longer an option. If one of them didn't make it, they were Walker food.

Daryl saw no plausible way out it their situation, but he still tried to think of something. He forced the gears in his brain to crank and turn. Eventually, he spotted a loose section of plywood in the fence outside the metal wall. If he could reach it, they could use the plank as a narrow bridge.

Rick realized the idea at the same as Daryl, and together they grabbed for the wood. Rick's arms were just long enough to grab the unattached end and pull. Daryl grabbed for the other end and hauled it up and over the fence. It wasn't exactly sturdy, but it was better than nothing.

Luckily, they both made it to the other side. Unfortunately, there was another, much bigger, problem awaiting them below. Once they were safe on the observation deck, they were able to see the Walkers in the streets. The horde had breached the wall at the front of town.

Rick checked his gun for remaining bullets and discovered he was dangerously low. Daryl knew he was as well, and crossbow bolts were a risk when he couldn't retrieve them. There were only three, so he'd have to make them count.

"We doin' this?" Rick questioned.

Daryl took a steady breath and gathered his wits. "Let's go."


	32. Part 32

There was no way out.

The rate at which the Walkers were multiplying seemed astronomical. Unrealistic. It was happening way too fast, and there were far too many. So many that it was becoming hard to distinguish one body from another. They blended together - rotting flesh meshed into one solid wall of death and decay. What once was a vacant street was now a sea of endless corpses. They were trapped inside with no way out. And Daryl - he was trapped outside with no way in.

The best thing they could do would be to get their hands on more weapons, but Olivia's house was across the street. Across a sea of Walkers. The armory was in no man's land, and they had little chance of making it their alive.

But Beth was already cooking up a plan. As she sat motionless on the floor and the others scurried about blocking off windows and doors, Beth remembered something Glenn had told her about a time he and Rick were stuck in the middle of a horde in Atlanta. They'd covered themselves in Walker guts to blend in with the madness, and it worked. The smell was strong enough to cover their own scent, and as long as they were quiet, the surrounding dead paid little attention to them.

"We need to get to the armory," Beth said, lifting her voice just enough to make everyone stop what they were doing. They all looked at her, clearly waiting for more since the suggestion wasn't plausible, so she continued. "I have an idea."

Carl removed his hat and pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Guts," she stated plainly.

She knew Carl would understand, and he did. The others looked on with bemused expressions, but the gears in Carl's head were turning. "We can use the bed sheets," he said. "Like a poncho."

Beth nodded. "Exactly."

Jessie stumbled over a chair propped on its side against the bay window. "Can one of you please explain?"

"We will," Carl promised hastily, already climbing the stairs two at a time, "but first, we need every sheet or blanket in this house."

"⧫"

Just as Daryl was about to take his first shot, he noticed a very familiar, very alive looking Walker. But it wasn't a Walker - it was… Jessie. She was wearing what looked like a bloody bed sheet, streaked with guts and brains of the long deceased. The blood was a deep brown, unlike the fresh red color that pumped beneath living flesh, and it was just the right about to blend in with the crowd she intended to be confused with. But her hair stood out. It caught his attention because it was the same shade of blond as Beth, and Daryl's eyes were immediately drawn to it. But there was something off about the shape of her body beneath the sheet. The lump under the poncho didn't match the size of Jessie's frame. She was holding something. Something that was moving.

Daryl's throat closed. It was Abby.

His eyes scanned the crowd in front of him, desperately looking for signs of the others in a similar disguise. He found them still gathered together on Rick's front porch, holding hands in a line formation, and preparing themselves to exit the shelter the steps were providing. Beth was second in line just behind Michonne. Daryl could see Carl, Maggie, and Olivia taking up the rear. As long as they stuck together and remained quiet, they'd be okay.

Surely they would be.

"We gotta get down there," Rick urged, seeing the group's escape attempt.

His eyes fell on Carl first, then Daryl watched as they traveled up the line to Michonne. He had two people to lose in that lineup, just like Daryl. They were in the same boat, and they were both very aware of the severity in the situation.

"We need to distract 'em with something," Daryl said. "Whatever'll draw their attention away from the houses."

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and frown, thinking hard and fast for a solution. Then it came. "The church," he said, pulling his hand away from his face. "The one just outside the gate. It's partially burnt anyway, and the wall's down. They'll go straight for it."

Daryl nodded in agreement. "Light the sonuvabitch on fire."

"Alright. You stay ahead of me. I'll cover you. We keep close to the fence and shoot anything on our left. Got it?"

Daryl nodded once more. "On three?"

Rick counted down.

Then, they ran.

"⧫"

The stench was something Beth had not thought through.

She was aware that wearing Walker guts wouldn't be the most pleasant of experiences, but still… she hadn't completely understood the power behind the stench of death. It worked - she couldn't deny that - for they'd made it almost to the other side of the street without a single dead one looking their way. They sniffed and kept moving. No interest or care to feed on something just as rotten as themselves. And so far, everyone was keeping their composure.

Most of the group had experience being close to a Walker, but Olivia and Jessie were very new to the notion of having one right in front of their faces. Close enough to touch. Close enough to see the tiny bits of leftover human flesh still hanging from their teeth. It took a lot of trust to hand over Abby to Jessie without protest, but Beth was impressed by her nerve. They all knew it was too risky getting to the armory and back with a baby, so Jessie had volunteered to get Abby to safety. The two were going to hole up in the church outside the walls until the streets were clear. The building was crumbling and disintegrating in places where a previous fire had nearly brought it to the ground, but it was set just far enough from the town that the horde had moved right past it. The best part was that despite the damage above ground, the basement of the church was still accessible - Daryl had scoped it out the first week they arrived. He knew the layout, and Beth had no doubt he would agree it was the safest place for Abby.

They were so close. Only a few more steps and they could walk the rest of the way to the armory along a clear path behind the next set of houses. They just had to turn the corner. They just had to make it a little but further.

But it was too late. They were no longer invisible.

Beth heard the scream first. It took several seconds for her mind to communicate with her body, but in that time she discovered that the cry was coming from behind her. From the back of the line. She was unable to get a clear view, but she had already drawn her knife. Michonne, too. They whirled around to find that Olivia was now within the clutches of a Walker.

Beth's eyes were glossed over with a smear of red. The scene painted her vision with smears of crimson, and she couldn't look away. They'd been so close.

Olivia's hand was still tangled with Maggie's, and the sight was enough to snap Beth back into attention. Carl was trying to help by adding an extra tug to Maggie's arm, but neither of them could pull away from Olivia's grip. Despite being eaten alive, Olivia's hand remained locked around Maggie's. There was only one thing to do.

Michonne moved in quick with her katana and swung down precisely just at the wrist. Maggie disentangled her fingers from Olivia's now unaccompanied and lifeless hand, letting it fall to the ground with the rest of her body. The Walkers swarmed like flies once their meal was free to devour without a fight. As much as Beth hated to watch, she couldn't look away. She couldn't make her feet move.

Thankfully, Maggie was able to make them move on her behalf. She shoved her sister forward, and they darted behind the next house followed closely by Carl and Michonne.

"W-what happened?" Beth managed to question.

Her entire body was trembling with shock. It'd been too long since she'd been a Walker take one of her friends. People. That had been focus for quite some time. But this. They'd been fighting a war against hostile groups for months, but had forgotten to stop and think about why the war had started. Why all the bad people came crawling out of the woodwork in the first place.

The dead were the real enemy. They couldn't forget that.

Maggie wiped her brow and took a long look at the sweat gleaming off the back of her hand. There was blood there - blood that didn't belong to her.

"She got scared," Maggie said. "I couldn't calm her down." She shook her head - a reminder to herself that it couldn't be helped. "There was nothing I could do."

Beth heard her words, but she was distracted. Something had caught her attention. Something that looked like smoke beginning to billow over the rooftops.

"Is that… fire?"

The others turned, and they all confirmed. Something just outside the walls was burning.

"The church," Michonne let out under her breath.

Beth's stomach dropped.

She lurched forward, but Maggie held her back. She cried her daughter's name, but Maggie clamped a hand tightly over her mouth. "Beth, calm down. We don't know she's in there. You're making too much noise."

"That's where I told Jessie to go!" she insisted. "We have to get to her!"

"Maybe she's the one that started the fire," Carl suggested. "It's possible."

Beth clenched her jaw. She felt the brittle bone in her teeth crack and grind as she bit back the will to dart through depths of hell to find her daughter.

 _She's with Jessie_ , Beth reminded herself. _Jessie is smart. She'll keep them safe._

Just then, a shot rang out from within the flood in the street. Someone was out there. Stuck. Everyone readied their weapons once more, like a synchronized routine, practiced to perfection. Beth fell back behind the others. There were too many tragedies running through her head. The fire was one thing, but the possibility that Jessie and Abby never made it to the church was another. What if they were spotted? Surrounded.

But Jessie didn't have a gun.

Beth's face lifted from where her eyes were focused on Michonne's back muscles, lifting and tightening as she kept a steady breath. Someone was out there, and before she even laid eyes on him, Beth knew by the sudden drop in Michonne's steady shoulders that it was Rick.


	33. Part 33

The ground beneath Beth's feet felt like it was shifting.

Her vision was compromised by the blur of Michonne's sword swinging past her eyes at rapid speed. It cut quick - two head shots within a single second. The flash of silver and red took over everything, and Beth felt her stomach churn.

She heard the faint yell of Carl ushering Maggie to lend aid, but it sounded far away - a completely separate voice in a completely separate world.

Beth swayed on the spot. She was continuously knocked in the gut with the sensation of falling. The dirt beneath her boots was disintegrating. She was plummeting into oblivion, and no one else had noticed.

" _Beth!"_

The cry from her sister's throat woke her just in time to dodge an oncoming Walker. She felt the loose, dead skin drag against her own arm, and she shuddered away. They were cornered now. With their backs to the fence, the sight in front of her looked like a next to none chance at survival, but the others were fighting. They were taking a stand and pushing back against the surge of dead upon them. Beth wanted to fight. She wanted to help, but she couldn't shake the thought of Abby burning alive. Beth clawed and rubbed at her eyes, but the vision was glued there. Stuck on repeat.

" _Beth, come on!"_

Maggie's voice again.

It was enough to remind Beth where she was, and once again she was alerted to another close call. This time, however, Maggie grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her along at a run. They sprinted behind the houses, dodging Walkers that filtered between them, and eventually made it to the first observation deck. They climbed the ladder and rose above a wave of approaching dead. Now, they really were stuck. But they were at least out of reach.

"⧫"

Daryl had sensed something was wrong before stepping past the threshold and into the church.

The fire was a good plan - it would draw enough Walkers away that any stragglers could be easily picked off - but he'd been in that church before. He'd scoped the area thoroughly after first arriving in Alexandria, and he remembered the conversation he and Beth had about the basement.

 _It's the perfect place to hide,_ she'd said. _If something goes wrong. No one would think to even look there._

He wasn't sure if it was the memory or the subtle flutter in his gut that made him check behind the partially closed door before lighting the match, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that something was calling him inside. Something was pulling him towards that basement.

Daryl urged himself forward, stepping lightly across the worn and broken wood. It was near impossible not to make noise given the state of his surroundings, but he managed to get within an inch of the stairs that led down beneath the ground without disturbing whoever hid there.

He'd seen Jessie take Abby. It must have been Beth that told her to go.

"Jessie?" Daryl called down the stairs. He cleared his throat. "Jessie, it's Daryl. Do you have Abby?"

He waited with bated breath, and within the seconds it took for her to respond, he forgot he was holding it.

"Yes."

The sound of her voice was enough to bring Daryl to his knees. He knelt in front of the landing and released the breath he'd been holding in relief. But he pulled himself together quickly. His daughter was safe, but he still needed to get to Beth - wherever she was now.

"Most of the Walkers are inside the walls now," he told Jessie, "but I'm gonna light this building up to draw the others away. I need you to come with me to the armory."

Silence weighed heavily in the air between them. If only he could hear Abby somehow, just as reassurance that she was alright.

"Okay," Jessie agreed.

He heard her begin ascending the stairs, but it wasn't until he caught the sight of Abby's tiny blond head that he let himself breathe. He wanted to take her in his arms, but there was no time for celebration yet. Once Jessie had cleared the threshold and was standing on what little grass still thrived surrounding the church, Daryl lit two matches. He tossed one down the stairs where the thin wood almost immediately caught fire, and he let the other fall to the floor beneath his feet within a pile of scattered leaves. They caught like kindling and soon spread to meet the flames licking the top of the stairs. It wouldn't take long for the old church to burn.

"⧫"

Beth watched from high above the ground as the ladder cascaded into the sea of Walkers below them. It'd been knocked over seconds after she and Maggie escaped onto the platform, and now they were stranded.

She had a good vantage point - nearly all of Alexandria was visible to her from where she stood - so if anything, she'd be able to spot Jessie and Abby… if they hadn't made it to the church. Michonne and Carl were still fighting their way through a pack of dead towards Rick, but they'd lost sight of him. From where Beth stood, she could see Rick clearly. He and Daryl must have been separated, for Beth didn't see any other figures she recognized. The most important people in the world were somehow invisible to her, yet everyone else was clear. Just out of reach, but in plain sight.

Maggie collapsed onto her backside and wiped the sweat from her brow. They weren't going anywhere for a while, so Beth followed her lead and sat next to her on the surface of the platform. She pulled her knees close to her chest and waited for the nervous shaking in her hands to stop. They trembled against the fabric of her jeans, creating a rhythm she didn't care to fall in sync with.

"We just have to wait," Maggie stated blankly. "The others'll figure out somethin'. Then we'll get down from here, and we'll be able to help."

Beth watched as black smoke billowed above the trees. It twisted and coiled around obstructions in its path, leaving wisps of soot in its wake. She imagined Abby's tiny lungs turning black, and it sent a sharp pain into her chest.

 _Screw waiting._

Beth hauled herself to her feet and began searching for something that would make it easier to scale the other side of the fence. Most of the Walkers were inside the community by now, and there was a very clear path behind her that would make a good escape if she could manage to get over the wall without hurting herself. She began stripping off her jacket and ripping the sleeves into thick strands.

"What're you doing?"

Beth ignored Maggie's question, and instead said, "Give me your jacket."

"What? Why?"

"I'm gonna climb down the other side."

Maggie pursed her lips and scowled. "No you're not."

Before Beth could argue back, they were interrupted by another gun shot. This time, however, it was followed by a blood curdling scream. What was surprising to Beth was that the scream had come from Maggie. She spun around to face her sister and tried to deduce the threat, but Maggie wasn't concerned with anything on the platform. Beth followed her line of sight and found that Maggie was fixated on the situation below them. She scanned the chaos for Michonne and Rick, but Carl was nowhere to be found. Then, she saw him, and she knew exactly why Maggie had screamed.

Carl was flat on his back within the grass. From where she stood, Beth couldn't properly assess the damage, but there was blood. Lots of blood. His face was smeared with it, and it hat had fallen next to him on the ground, haphazardly on its side and nearly forgotten. Michonne was frantic. She slashed and stabbed at every single Walker that came anywhere near them, all the while Rick rushed to his son's motionless body. Rick scooped Carl into his arms and looked around with wild eyes, trying to decipher a way out of the situation.

Beth called down to them as loud as her lungs would carry the sound. "Take him to the infirmary!" she yelled. "We'll meet you there!"

The others made a beeline for Denise's old house. Tara still lived there, but no one had been keeping up with the medical supplies since Denise's death. They hadn't been any emergencies to attend to with Beth being cared for at the Hilltop, but Beth knew that all of Denise's equipment was still there. She'd learned enough about basic medical care by growing up watching her father. Sure, he treated animals not humans, but what was the difference really? All she needed to do was keep Carl alive. And _that_ she had the will to do.

Now that Beth had a legitimate reason to scale the wall, Maggie helped her rip and tie sections of their jackets together to form a rope. They knotted the end to lowest point of one of the rails and hoped to God it would hold. It wasn't an extremely long fall, but it wouldn't be fun, and it wasn't something Beth wanted to do.

When they both made it to the ground safely, they ran around the perimeter of Alexandria towards the front gate. There were just enough Walkers for them to dodge without getting pinned against the wall, and once they were back inside the community, they sealed the front gate to hold in what had ventured inside. While Beth tended to Carl's wounds, Maggie was going to get guns and ammo to the others. If they all worked together, they could very well beat the dead one by one. They had to win. There was no other option.

"⧫"

Daryl and Jessie raced for the gates of Alexandria and made it to Tara's house within seconds of the first loud crack of the church's inner structure beginning to crumble. He was momentarily mesmerized by the smoke lifting high into the air, but he was pulled back to his mission at the sound of Abby's subtle whimpers.

Her porcelain skin beaded with sweat from being so close to the heat of the fire, and Daryl couldn't stop himself from wiping it away from her forehead with careful, delicate fingers. He took her then, thinking there was nothing better for him to do in that moment than hold his daughter. To keep her safe. To shield her with his own embrace against the madness that surrounded them. Abby burrowed her face into his neck, sensing the comfort and familiarity of his touch, and Daryl felt helpless. He wanted nothing more than to give her a perfect life without Walkers or psychotic men with baseball bats wrapped in barbed wire. She was too young to see such violence. Too innocent to have to witness death and decay right in front of her eyes.

He pressed her flush against his chest and kissed her cheek. "You're okay, baby girl. I got you."

"Where's Beth?" Jessie inquired.

Daryl hadn't laid eyes on her since she was with the group on Rick's porch, preparing to venture out into the swarm. They must have been planning to go to the armory, but they weren't there. No one was, except Daryl and Jessie. Correction. There was someone _inside_ Tara's house, banging on the window to get their attention. Daryl looked over to see none other than Father Gabriel waving them to come inside.

Gabriel cracked the door open quickly and allowed Daryl to slip through with Abby, followed closely by Jessie. "Is everyone else alright?" he asked, closing the door firmly behind them. "Did they make it inside the houses?" He swallowed hard. "I was coming to look for a bandage when I saw the wall come down. There must be hundreds of dead out there."

Daryl nodded and let out a muffled grunt. He didn't necessarily dislike the man - Daryl had grown to appreciate Gabriel's self-awareness over time - but he still felt like Gabriel was always one step behind everyone else. Catching onto things just a second too late. But the preacher had definitely abandoned his fear - the fear of having to do whatever necessary to survive in the world they knew now.

"I was with Beth," Jessie put forward. "And Carl, Michonne and Olivia. They were supposed to come here. They told me they were coming here."

Daryl could sense the nervous tone of Jessie's voice, but he chose to ignore it. Beth was smarter than most people thought. She was more capable than the world gave her credit for, and he knew she wouldn't hand off Abby without having a plan. Something must have slowed them down, or kept them in place. Either way, Daryl had faith that Beth would make it to the infirmary in one piece.

"Look!" Gabriel announced, startling Abby still burrowed in Daryl's arms.

Someone was coming. Fast. It didn't take long to make out that it was Rick, and that he was carrying Carl like a limp doll while Michonne cut through every corpse that crossed their path. Before they reached the door, however, another figure came dashing around the corner - blond-haired and blood-smeared.

Gabriel pulled open the door to let the group inside, and Beth was the first one to speak.

"I need to know where Denise kept her sutures!" she called out openly to anyone that was listening. "And I need lots of gauze and antiseptic!"

"Is he bitten?" Jessie questioned as Rick placed his son's body on the empty bed.

Beth took off her jacket and pulled her hair into a tight knot at the top of her head. "No. Gunshot wound."

Gabriel appeared from the other room with a handful of all the items Beth had requested. Beth opened a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cleaned her hands as she attempted to assess the damage. Daryl was completely lost for words. And feelings. Too much happening, and there were too many bodies - living bodies - roaming around the room aimlessly without purpose. Only Beth seemed to have her shit together. And Gabriel, who had somehow appointed himself as her assistant.

"It looks like the bullet only grazed him, but it feels like the socket is shatter. There's probably too much damage to the eye for me to save it, but I can stop the bleeding. He'll lose his sight, but he'll live."

"Do whatever you can," Michonne urged. Her face was stricken, if possible, with even more grief than Rick's, for he had somehow slipped into a place of numbness that Daryl knew all too well.

Without anyone noticing, Maggie had entered the house and was collecting guns from the armory in the back. Daryl only saw her when she came back into the main room searching for bullets. He was so focused on her sudden appearance that Daryl didn't catch Rick slipping out the door until it was too late.

"Where is he going?" Daryl demanded.

Michonne lifted her head from where she was hovering over Carl. Beth's fingers steadily laced together the gash in the boy's right temple, but there was so much blood. Daryl couldn't fathom how Beth managed to see any part of what she was doing, but she moved smoothly. And with great determination.

Michonne hesitated and made the motion to pull away from the table and follow Rick, but she didn't want to leave Carl's side. She was holding his head steadily in place while Beth worked, and Beth noticed the short deviation of movement.

"I have to help him," Michonne declared. "He's out there alone."

Beth scowled and shook her head. "I just need one more second."

" _Come on_ ," Michonne cried.

"This is his son," Beth stated with fervor. "Give me a second."

Michonne stilled and waited for Beth to thread the needle one last time. Then Beth pulled back and nodded once, and Michonne was halfway out the door.

"Wait," Maggie called after her. She handed her a fully loaded semi-automatic and drew her own knife. "Let's go."

Daryl looked from Gabriel to Beth, debating for half a second on what his next move should be, then Beth caught his eye and squared her shoulders. She was covered in blood, sweat pooling through her T-shirt and dirt stains covering her jeans.

"Go," was all she said.

He handed Abby off to Jessie and grabbed a gun. Before closing the door, he looked back to his wife and said, "I'm coming back."

Beth smiled softly. "I know."


	34. Part 34

Beth kept herself busy by bandaging Carl's wounds. However, despite her best efforts, she couldn't control the need to continue looking out the window. She'd lost sight of the group, but there were plenty of Walkers horizontal in the streets to show their success.

 _They can do this_ , she reminded herself. _They can win without your help._

"You should just go," Jessie suggested.

Beth looked up to find her friend standing at Carl's feet. She was confused, but Jessie gave her a knowing look.

"I know wanna be out there with them," she said. "You wanna help."

Beth lowered her head. "I can't. I want to, but I have to look after Carl." She sighed in defeat. I can't be in two places at once."

Jessie cocked her head. "I can watch over him. He's just resting now."

"No," Beth disagreed. "You're already enough of a blessing watching over Abby as it is. Besides, Rick left Carl in my care. I can't just leave him."

Jessie took in Beth's words with understanding. She nodded once, and then smiled. "I get it."

"You say that like you know something I don't," Beth assumed.

"Sorry," Jessie said. "I didn't mean anything by it. It's just… you're Beth Dixon. I shouldn't expect anything but the best from you by now."

"How do you mean?"

"You're incredibly loyal to your friends and family. The love you have for your husband is unlike anything I've ever seen, even in the movies. And you turn into this demon warrior-princess when anything even remotely threatens the life of your daughter. You're a force of nature. I wish I was more like you."

Beth shrank into herself. She felt exposed. "You really believe all that?"

"I've seen it," Jessie stated firmly. "Of course I do."

"⧫"

When it was over, Beth walked back to her house somberly through a maze of limbs and crushed skulls. She'd decided to leave Abby at the infirmary for the time being, because the little girl had finally grown bored of all the excitement and fallen asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, Beth had kindly asked Michonne if she would keep an eye on her for the next few hours while she and Rick stayed at Carl's beside. There was no hesitation, for Michonne was equally as grateful for what Beth had done as Rick was. So Beth went home hoping that Daryl would be there waiting for her.

He was. He was sitting on the couch covered in blood and sweat and dirt from the day's battle, but Beth couldn't find the energy or the care to reprimand him for ruining the nice furniture. She next to him without saying a word, and he pulled her into his lap. He cradled her, knees pulled to her chest like a child in the fetal position, and for the first time that day, Beth allowed herself to relax.

Daryl stroked her hair soothingly. "How is he?"

Beth replied in a hushed tone against his chest. "Stable. He just needs rest."

"Yeah, I think we all do," Daryl admitted.

He kissed her shoulder lightly, but she squirmed away. "Don't do that. I'm gross, and so are you."

Daryl laughed. "You know I don't care. But if you're that disgusted with yourself, why don't you go take a bath? You earned some rest today."

She pulled back and met his eyes. Why was everyone acting like she was some sort of superhero? Daryl and the others were the ones out there fighting, not her. They were the ones that saved Alexandria. All she did was stitch people up. Yeah, she might have kept Carl from bleeding out, but he was never going to be able to see out of that eye again. She couldn't give him that. And what if it had been worse? What if the bullet had done more than just graze him? Would she have earned rest then?

Daryl could sense Beth's discontent by the look on her face. He let her get to her feet, but refused to let go of her hand when she tried to walk away.

"I'm just gonna take a bath," she assured him. "It actually sounds good right now."

He looked her over, taking in the tense stance in her posture and the half-hearted smile that barely reached her eyes. Before she could deflect his concern any further, he pulled her back to him. She fell back into his lap.

"I know you've been worried about not being useful since you had Abby," he said, "but today you proved that you are. You saved Carl." She began shaking her head in protest, but he took hold of her chin, forcing her to stop. "That's not nothing," he insisted. "You can be useful without having to fight." He dropped his eyes to where his thumb rested just under her bottom lip. "I don't want you to fight," he said. "I want you to be safe. I want both of us to be safe. Abby deserves to have a mom and a dad."

Beth's eyes were brimming with tears, but she couldn't find the courage to step onto the platform Daryl was raising for her.

"I didn't know you could do the things you did today," he added, releasing his hold on her.

"I didn't either," she said. "I just did it."

"You could be a doctor."

She scoffed. "I don't know enough."

"Oh yeah?" he questioned. "I bet you learned what little you know now just by watching your dad. That right?" She nodded. "You can do this." Beth formed a genuine smile and Daryl watched it grow into a tiny laugh. "What?"

"When I was little, I told my dad I didn't wanna be a doctor. There was too much school."

"To hell with school. Nowadays everyone learns by doing. We adapt. Do what we have to in order to survive. To live." He kissed her forehead. "I got faith in ya."

"Thank you," she breathed.

They both got up, and Beth headed for the stairs, but Daryl was walking towards the door. "Where're you going?"

"I'll go get Abby, so if she wakes up, it'll be my fault. You go take that bath."

"Join me when you get back?"

He nodded once, dipping his chin low. "Sure."

"⧫"

By the time Daryl put Abby back to sleep in her own bed, he found Beth in the same state.

She'd fallen asleep in one of his T-shirts, wet hair clinging to the pillow and around her face, so he let her be. He looked down at his appearance in the mirror and decided he too ought to get cleaned up before getting into bed. So, he started the shower and stripped from his clothes.

The water was hot. He let it burn the grime from his skin as he stood under the stream reliving the day. He hated it. He'd hated being separated from his girls, but what could he do about it? Rick did it. Somehow, the man managed to convince himself to get out of bed every morning, leaving Michonne and his two children behind. Not knowing if he'd come back from a run alive, or get ambushed coming to and from the other communities.

Daryl was finding it harder and harder to make that choice every day. Walking out the door while Beth and Abby stayed behind felt like severing one of his limbs. And each time something bad happened, it made the next time even worse. Eventually, he was going to be a ghost. No body left to fight the threats, because it was at home... with them.

He decided then and there that he was going to make a change. It wasn't important that he continued going outside the walls. What was important was the time he spent with his family. He wanted to make something of that time, and he was going to start now.

"⧫"

"Alright, Junebug. What's it gonna be? Peas or carrots?"

Beth held out two jars of baby food, one in each hand for Abby to choose, but instead of reaching for one of them like she typically did, Abby kept her hands at her sides.

"Please work with me," Beth pleaded. "I know the sweet potatoes are your favorite, but if you eat them all first, then you won't have any left. And what if Daddy can't find more?"

"Daddy's not the one that's gonna be lookin'," Daryl corrected her as he entered the kitchen.

Beth turned in her seat to face him. "What? Why?"

"I'm not going out. Aaron's taking Eric today instead."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, immediately fearing the worst.

"No," he assured. "I just wanted to stay home with my girls today. Is that alright by you?"

Beth smirked and narrowed her eyes at Daryl playfully. "Yes. Of course it is."

"Besides," Daryl went on, "Aaron said it'd been awhile since he and Eric did a run together, so it'd be like a getaway or something." He picked up an apple from the table and tossed it in the air a few times before taking a bite. "So what do you do all day when I'm not here?" he asked, mouth still full.

Beth debated her response, then said, "Well… we typically have pillow fights, but there're no boys allowed, so we'll have to think of something else."

"Funny," he baited, then thought. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?" Beth shook her head. "We can start with that. Invite Maggie and Glenn over. We'll do it together."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"I don't know, it's just been awhile since we've had the time. Given everything that's happened."

Daryl walked over and planted a gentle kiss on his wife's lips. "I know," he said. "That's why we should make time."

She smiled and stood up from the table. Since Abby had neglected to make a decision, Beth opted for the jar of carrots. She retrieved a spoon from one of the drawers, and then sat back down. "Are you sure there isn't something Rick needs you to do?" she asked.

"The streets have been clear for weeks," Daryl said. "And there's only one load of Walkers left to burn. He and Michonne are knocking that out first thing this morning."

"Okay. Well, after breakfast, I have to check on Carl. Change his bandage. You should stay with Abby. Have some daddy-daughter time."

Daryl sat down opposite Beth at the kitchen table and stole Abby's attention away from her food. "That sound good, sweetheart?" he cooed.

She reached for him and was momentarily distracted by his facial hair. Her tiny fingers combed at his chin, then she let out a squeak of approval.

"Alright then," Daryl concurred. "I'm gonna teach you how to hunt."

Bethyl scoffed. "She can't even talk."

"Ain't no talkin' when you hunt."

"Maybe not, but you have to be able to walk."

Daryl pretended to mull the idea over in his head. Then he dramatically sighed in defeat. "Fine. It's too cold anyway. Guess we'll have to have a pillow fight instead."

Beth rolled her eyes.

"⧫"

Maggie greeted her sister at the door with a suffocating hug. Then, she did that thing she does when she just stares at a person for what feels like way too long. Past the point of uncomfortable and nearing the point of gazing into one's soul.

Beth squirmed under her stare. "Why're you doing that?"

"Just tryin' to see if I can tell."

"Tell what?"

"If you're pregnant?" She stated it as a hopeful question, the last word scooping upward in a hesitant guess of aspiration.

Beth recoiled. "What?"

Maggie withdrew herself and took a step back. "Well, I dunno. I just thought maybe because you wanted to have breakfast together…"

"Good grief, Maggie. It was Daryl's idea." Beth let out a chuckle and stepped through the door. "We just wanted to have a family breakfast together."

"I think that's a great idea," Glenn said, appearing at the top of the stairs. He hurried down and kissed both girls on the cheek, then they all made their way into the kitchen.

Maggie made pancakes from scratch, the same way Beth's mom always made them back at the farm. Maggie didn't necessarily have the best relationship with Annette, but it was always clear that the two of them tried for everyone else's sake. Beth had understood. She didn't come from a broken home. She'd had a mom, a dad, a brother, and an extra sibling to make the picture even fuller. She knew that Maggie already had a mother and that Beth's mom would never be able to replace her. Not that she tried.

They ate together and shared conversation for a good portion of the morning, then Beth had to retreat to the infirmary and meet Carl for a check up. Daryl lingered behind with Maggie and Glenn for a while, but after he'd assisted with clearing the dishes, he made his way outside to the front porch for a quick smoke break. He had been really trying to cut back since having Abby, and even though he knew Beth didn't mind, he also knew that she didn't prefer it. It was easy not to think about it whenever cigarettes were scarce, and most of the time they were, but whenever he happened upon a pack, he couldn't resist. It was old habit, and it was something that could be relied on in times of stress.

Glenn joined him on the porch a few minutes later. He sat on the edge of the railing and glanced out at the surrounding houses. Moments like this were too often taken for granted - the pause in chaos that allowed for observation and reflection - but that was Daryl was planning to change.

"Did Maggie claim her?" Daryl asked, referring to Abby.

Glenn smirked. "I don't even think you could get in the way of that."

Maggie was a very possessive aunt, but Daryl knew it was with good intent. Maggie longed for her own child, and after her miscarriage, it was clear that she'd latched on to Abby as a placeholder. No one minded. That child was more than welcome to all the love in the world.

"So why didn't you go out today with Aaron?" Glenn asked. He wasn't pried. Merely curious. Concerned. Like Beth had been.

Daryl dragged a final hit from his cigarette and snuffed it out on the porch railing. "I didn't want to," he said, blowing smoke. "I'm tired of leaving them behind."

Glenn knew who _them_ was. His family. His girls. But it still racked Daryl with guilt to just abandon his aid to the group like that. He felt cheap. Selfish.

"You deserve a break," Glenn said. He caught Daryl's eye and shrugged honestly. "You've paid your dues. Rick took his time when he needed it at the jail. We all get it, man."

"What about you?"

"I don't need a break just yet. But when the time comes, I'll let you know."

Daryl gave his friend a thankful pat on the shoulder, then he returned inside. Today, Maggie was going to have some competition.


	35. Part 35

The house was still. It cradled Beth and Abby in a cocoon of silence as they drifted in and out of sleep. Beth felt herself stir at the sound of something downstairs, but by the time she pulled herself back into consciousness, the sound had gone, and she wasn't sure if it was real or if she had dreamed it.

She carefully got to her feet and took Abby to her room, placing the sleeping child in her crib, then Beth made her way into the bathroom. She washed her face. Brushed her teeth. Even took a moment to brush through the tangled curls in her hair. Then, she turned off the light and went downstairs.

Daryl was sitting at the kitchen table whittling at new bolts for his crossbow. She climbed into his lap without invitation, but she wasn't dismissed. He placed the small knife he'd been using flat on the table's surface and greeted her with a long, tasteful kiss.

He smiled up at her and said, "Hey."

"Hi," she returned in a wistful whisper.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She cocked her head in amusement. "You didn't wake me."

"Nah," he confirmed. "You need to sleep when she does."

"Yeah, but now my neck hurts." She twisted and arched her neck to show the stiffness. It was true - she'd fallen asleep at an odd angle in that chair - but it didn't bother her as much as she let on. Daryl played along nonetheless.

"Oh yeah? Lemme see."

He swiveled her around so that her back was to him, and he began to gently massage the muscles at the base of her neck. He kneaded his fingers deep into the spaces between her shoulder blades and dragged them carefully down the length of her spine.

Beth hummed absentmindedly in pleasure, closing her eyes to Daryl's touch. "I like you being here all the time," she said, lids still shut. "Maybe you should tell Rick you found a new job."

"What?" he questioned with mock surprise. "Doin' this?"

She nodded and let out a long, drawn out, "Mmmmhmmm."

Daryl pressed his lips to her shoulder and lingered there. "I think I'd like that," he said, voice muffled by her skin. He moved his hands to the small of her back and gripped at her torso. His fingers raised the fabric of the red flannel she was wearing and he felt under and around to the spidery stretch marks that now marked the skin around her stomach. He could hardly see them, but their silky, light trails left memory of what had grown there. What was brought to life inside of the woman he loved. Not that he didn't love her body before, but now… now it was like his favorite dessert was drizzled with chocolate. More for him to lick. For him to enjoy and devour.

She was a miracle to him, with her still slightly swollen breasts and newly shaped hips that gave him terrible urges he found near impossible to control. For Daryl, she was always sexy. She was always stunning and graceful and full of light, but even though he never saw her as a child, he couldn't help but think there had to be a difference. A difference in the maturity he saw in her then, and now. Now, she was all woman. All warrior. All mother and fierce lover. His wife. His best friend. His soul mate and one true love.

He was about to dive into her head first, getting lost in just the thought of her, when a _clang_ from outside the window caught the attention of them both.

"What was that?" Beth questioned, getting to her feet.

Daryl went to the window and peered between the blinds. It was too dark to get a good look, but she had faith that he'd be able to sense what had caused the noise. It was Daryl, afterall. He was kinda good at that sort of thing. He didn't respond in the way Beth hoped, though. He continued to stare, trying to focus his eyes against the black of the night, but he looked puzzled. He looked to her with a face of concern and said, "Stay put. I'm gonna check it out."

Beth got a flash of deja vu. Her memory steered her back to the funeral home. To the dog rattling the string of cans they'd set up as an alarm against the dead. She didn't feel right about Daryl investigating the disturbance, and her intuition proved to be right when he informed her of the group of Walkers that had clustered outside the door. They'd stayed hidden then, and she felt a sudden rush of desperation to tell Daryl to do the same now.

"Wait," she begged, taking hold of his elbow and pulling him back. "It could be anything."

He looked at her for the stretch of a minute, and within that time she saw him contemplating the risk as his eyes moved back and forth between hers. Then, he sighed. Nodded his head.

"You're right," he agreed. "I won't leave you."

Daryl ambled across the kitchen with a new sense of calm and opened the drawer beneath the sink. He pulled out a flashlight, then he gestured for Beth to follow him upstairs. They ascended quietly, making sure not to disturb Abby as they passed her nursery, then trod lightly into their bedroom at the end of the hall. Their window overlooked the backyard - the same viewpoint as the kitchen - but here they had the advantage of height. Daryl pulled back the curtains and opened the window carefully. First, they both tried to absorb the scene with dilated pupils, but even that wasn't enough to give away what crept beneath. It was still too dark, so Daryl flipped the switch on the flashlight and aimed it at the ground.

The grass was wet from rain earlier that evening, but there was no sign of tracks. Human or Walker. The lawn was well kept and undisturbed. Daryl moved the flashlight across the hedges and followed the perimeter of the fence, but everything below remained quiet.

"Have you seen any animals around lately?" Beth asked under her breath.

He shook his head. "Nah. Nothing inside, anyway. Could be a possum."

They both shrugged, and Daryl closed the window in defeat. As Beth began descending the stairs, Daryl motioned that he was going to check in on Abby. She smiled and nodded, then took the last few steps down into the living room. When she turned the corner, she was face to face with the barrel of a gun. And Negan was holding the other end.

He nudged it against her temple, pressing it deep enough to leave a mark against her skin. She winced and couldn't help but take a step back. He nodded up the stairs, making his intention clear. She was to take him there. Where her daughter was sleeping. Where her husband was to be caught unaware, just like her.

The look on Negan's face was new. She'd never seen him without his wicked grin. That sinister smile that proved only he was entertained by the chaos that stirred around him. But he wasn't smiling. His face was fixed into a determined glower. He was focused. Enraged, but solemn. There was no time for games. He wasn't there to torment them or beat around the bush with his words. He had a plan, and it was to kill.

Beth's eyes went round. She slowly started toward the stairs, taking her time but not so much that it looked as if she were stalling. She _was_. She knew if there was enough pause between her steps, Daryl would sense it. He'd know something was wrong. She couldn't call out to warn him - the glint of rage in Negan's eyes was evidence enough that he'd shoot her on the spot. But if he did that, he risked Daryl having the opportunity to get away. Maybe it was worth the risk. All Beth had to do was scream one word. Belt it at the top of her lungs. _Run._

But she wasn't ready to die.

In a moment of clarity, Beth deliberately missed a step, causing her foot to come down with a thud on the step below. Negan wasn't oblivious. He knew her attempt was to get Daryl's attention, but it didn't deter him from the plan. He merely pushed her forward, forcing her legs to keep climbing until they reached the top of the landing.

Beth heard a _creak_ slowly fill the echoey room to her right. The front bedroom that overlooked the street outside. She held her breath as the passed by the doorframe, silently hoping that Daryl was there... and that he was not.

She stole a glance before Negan shoved her forward into Abby's nursery. The room was empty and remained still, save for the slightly cracked window and the curtain fluttering ever so softly in the nighttime breeze.

"Where are they?" Negan questioned sternly.

Abby was gone too. Her crib vacant. Even the blanket was gone.

Daryl must have gotten out, taking Abby and himself out the window. _But how?_

Beth merely stared blankly at the blush colored carpet that lined the edge of Abby's dresser. She'd been playing there just that morning, grabbing at the frayed ends of fabric with her tiny fingers. There was no chance that Daryl left their daughter knowing an intruder was in their home, but Beth couldn't fathom a scenario where the two of them could escape the house in utter silence. Was Beth's misstep on the stairs really enough to warn them? Or did Daryl already know who had entered their home?

Negan pressed the barrel of the gun into the back of Beth's head and repeated his question shortly. "Where?"

She swallowed hard, feeling the cool metal against her skull. It slid against her hair and caught on the first layer of skin, leaving a sharp sting of something out of place. "I don't know," she confessed, telling the truth for all she knew. "They aren't here."

The man's patience was clearly on the last thread, nearly on the verge of unraveling, as he grabbed at the nape of her neck with his thick fingers and squeezed. "This is it, girl. This is the end of the road. You got that? There's no weaseling your way out of things this time."

Beth winced at the pain now shooting down her spine. She'd been right. Nega wasn't in the mood for games. He was no longer interested in toying with his meal. No need for foreplay. He was going to devour her completely, in one large bite.

"On the floor," he commanded.

She did as she was told. Still facing away from him, she bent her knees to the carpet and waited. Negan secured what felt like a zip tie around both of Beth's wrists. It was too tight and nearly cut off her circulation, but she kept quite, refusing to whimper. He did the same to her ankles, then he pulled her clumsily to her feet so that she was facing correctly as he shoved her into the rocking chair.

Useless words and phrases ticker-taped across Beth's mind in that moment:

 _What do you want?_

 _You don't have to do this._

 _We can work this out._

They were all pointless. Negan's goal was simple: he wanted revenge. Beth was the girl that had fucked up his plans. She'd intervened and made things difficult for him. Alexandria didn't roll over and take the abuse like all of the other communities before them. And Beth was the spark that ignited that fire.

Then why not kill her and get it over with?

"Just do it," she finally said, gathering her voice so that it wouldn't come out afraid. "Just kill me and be done with it. That's what you want, isn't it? Kill me, and then you can start over?"

Negan squared his shoulders. "You know what I want, do you?" He hummed a bemused little tune. "That's right," he concluded aloud, "because you know everything. The new world just revolves slowly around that fresh-resting-bitch-face of yours, doesn't it?" He cracked his neck violently, sending cringe-worthy popping sounds throughout the room that made Beth's skin prickle. "You know, I thought I understood how the order of things had turned all topsy turvy now that there's no more government and all that jazz, but god... _dammit,_ I just don't get how some itsy bitsy little speck of a girl like you is capable of running a whole damn town. You've got those mother fuckers wrapped around that skinny little finger of yours, and it's just baffling to me."

She took his words with a grain of salt. He was trying to antagonize her. Make her join in to defend her actions and then punish her for them, but… what did he mean exactly? She wasn't in charge. People didn't listen to her. Did he honestly think they did?

"I guess I can understand why the men fawn over you and listen so well," he continued, "I mean you've got the looks in your favor, I'll give you that. But the women? What makes you so special?"

He was serious. Negan was honestly trying to decipher how Beth had come to be in charge.

She chose not to correct him.

"I've done things," she stated calmly. Coldly.

"Sweetheart," he belittled her, "we've all done things."

Beth bit her lip, determining her next words carefully. There were few things left in the world that frightened a man like Negan, if any… so it was key that she knew exactly what to say.

"No one's left, Negan," she spoke. Her voice was firm. Solid. "Everything you built is gone. Killin' me isn't gonna change that." She swallowed as she noticed the shadowy outline of a figure silently appear in the hall. "And it's certainly not gonna save you."


End file.
